Quietum Veritas et Redamo
by JusticeHouse
Summary: A new woman at JTF rattles Jack as they work side by side they become closer.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Any recognizable _Alias_ character's belong to J.J. Abrahms; Siobhan (Shi-van) Porter, Yusef Hamass, and other badies belong to me. Any songs used within this fic belong to the writers/singers.

Jack stared at his computer screen, seething. Yusef Hamass had just stolen another set of satellite images. In the last six weeks, Hamass had taken possession of sensitive computer files, the core of a nuclear weapon, an experimental computer program that could locate a person using DNA and video feeds, and several satellite images from four major counties.

The CIA's efforts in thwarting Hamass had met with unmitigated failure. The hardest thing to swallow was that they had no idea why he was doing it; they'd never heard of him until he began his raids. And now the FBI was being called in to assist.

"Dad?"

Jack looked up to see Sydney at his desk. His face softened; their relationship was finally on the right track and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't thrilled. Unfortunately, it had taken Irina's assassination by FBI sharpshooters to cement it in place. They had come together, bound by their mutual grief for a woman they both should have hated.

"Yeah?"

"Is there anything new with Hamass? Anything else I can be doing?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately, no. And if we don't act soon, there is going to be a major terrorist strike that we can't prevent."

"My thoughts exactly," came a new voice.

Jack looked up to see a pretty woman with auburn hair standing just behind Sydney. He stood and looked expectantly at his daughter.

"Dad, this is Dr. Siobhan Porter, the liaison from the FBI. She's going to be working with on the Hamass case."

"A pleasure," Jack's words were clipped but he extended his hand. "And what exactly are you a doctor of?"

"I'm a criminal psychologist, Agent Bristow. I've also been field rated for as long as I've been an agent," the woman replied.

"How long has that been?"

"Dad!" Sydney elbowed him.

"No, it's alright. There are always some territory issues when agencies work together. I made it my business to know the qualification of all the CIA personnel I'll be working with, so it's only fair that your father know mine.

"I was recruited out of Brown when I was 20 years old. I had been pursuing a degree in criminal psyche. The FBI wanted me for the skills I had cultivated. I've been with them for the last 30 years."

"Well then, I'm sure we'll catch Hamass in no time. Once you're done analyzing him to death."

"I take it you don't care for psychologists?"

"Not particularly. Now if you don't mind, I have real work to get back to. Sydney, I'd like to speak to you later."

"Sure," Sydney replied, a touch confused.

Agent Porter continued to make the rounds, introducing herself to the other members of the team. Jack kept his head lowered, concentrating on the intel they'd gathered. So far, none of it made any sense; there was no pattern, no way to determine what or whom Yusef Hamass would go after next. And he was not happy to have the FBI muscling in; a criminal psychologist would not be able to provide any useful leads, in Jack's opinion.

Siobhan kept shooting glances at Agent Jack Bristow. He was taller than she'd expected; she was 5'6 and had to look up to meet his eyes. The man was also _much_ better looking than she'd been led to believe. Rather than make him look old, his grey hair gave him a distinguished air. He looked angry now, flipping through reports, punching in data to the computer.

She could understand the reluctance for interagency cooperation, especially in this office. They'd already been burned twice, pretty badly; Stephen Haldaki and Robert Lindsey had both betrayed the trust of these agents. But there was something else behind Agent Bristow's enmity toward her. She had read his file after being given this assignment, as she had with all the members of the joint task force. And of course she had heard all about Jack Bristow from her co-workers and the rumor mill over the years.

She took it all with a grain of salt, was prepared to make her own assessment of this intriguing man. The only thing Siobhan could be sure of was that Jack Bristow must have been hurt terribly, no devastated by his ex-wife's betrayal. But she was determined to work to the best of her ability with all members of the team in order to bring Hamass to justice. And yet . . . something about the man drew her to him.


	2. Chapter 2

At 11 o'clock that morning, there was a meeting in the briefing room with all members of the joint task force: Director Dixon, CIA Agents Jack and Sydney Bristow, Michael Vaughn, Nadia Santos, Eric Weiss, Marshall and Carrie Flinkman and FBI Agent Dr. Siobhan Porter.

The meeting was superfluous; everyone in the room was up to speed on the specifics of the case and their own part in the investigation. The only reason they were all gathered was for Siobhan to introduce herself and explain what her role on the team would be.

"I want to stress that I'm _not_ here to usurp anyone's position. I am only here to enhance the ability of this team catch Hamass.

"I will be analyzing his movements, what he has taken, where he has been seen, who he associates with. With that information I will try to determine where he will strike next. If we can figure out what he will do _before_ he does it, our team intercept him and bring him to justice."

Siobhan sat down, glancing one by one at her compatriots. All seemed impressed, except Jack. He looked skeptical, and even more so, smug, as if he knew something she didn't. She tried to pay attention to what Director Dixon said before he dismissed them, but as soon as he did, she marched over to Jack.

"Care to tell me what you think about my contributions?"

"Do you want my honest opinion?"

"Of course!"

"Then, _Ms_. Porter," Jack deliberately chose not to use either of her titles, "let me make myself clear: I don't think that your contributions will amount to anything. It is a desperate attempt by the NSC and FBI to stem the flow of sensitive materials to the terrorists.

"The only thing that will stop Yusef Hamass is old-fashioned ground work and investigation."

"And where has that gotten you so far, Mr. Bristow?"

Jack turned on his heel without answering and went back to his station to continue his work.

Sydney came up behind Siobhan and said, "Let me show you to your cubicle."

"Is it me?" she asked Sydney as they walked.

"Is what you?"

"Your father. Have I done something to offend him?"

"Don't take it personally, Dr. Porter. My dad is not a big fan of the FBI and he despises psychologists."

"Please, call me Siobhan."

"Only if you call me Sydney."

"Absolutely. Is there any particular reason your father hates psychologists so much?"

"It's a long story. Do you want to have lunch with me? We can talk then." They had reached Siobhan's workstation.

"Sure. Come and get me when you're ready." Siobhan liked Sydney Bristow immensely. The young woman was open and friendly, despite the myriad of reason she had not to be. And although Siobhan wanted to find out more about Jack Bristow, she truly hoped to become friends with Sydney.

At lunch, the two women discussed mundane topics like movies, hair, make-up, and how to fight in high heels, until their food arrived.

"Siobhan, I want you to know that I meant what I said about taking things personally. I mean, my father . . ."

"Let me interrupt you for a moment. I want you to understand that I'm not here to pump you for information about your father. Share as much or as little as you feel comfortable with. But don't feel obligated to give me his life story because he was rude to me," Siobhan was sincere.

"I don't want you to think ill of him. There are so many reasons why Dad is slow to trust."  
Sydney went on to explain what had been done to Jack over the last 30 years. Between the hell that Irina had put him through and the CIA making him suffer for it, Jack was a damaged man, Siobhan assessed.

"You and he seem to have a good relationship," she pointed out when Sydney had finished.

"Yes, but that's only come about these last few years. He wasn't around much when I was growing up. It's taken us a long time to get here." There was pain lingering in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"It's alright. I understand why Dad did what he did. That doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt. We lost a lot of time . . ."

"I want to thank you. You had no reason to trust me and yet here you are being totally honest with me. And I want to be honest with you."

Sydney raised an eyebrow but said nothing, allowing the older woman to continue.

"I read your father's file before I came to the task force. When I was assigned to this case, some of my colleagues were all too happy to tell me about Jack Bristow.

"As a psychologist, he's an interesting case. But that's not why I wanted to hear about him from you. He seemed like such a lonely man, I was hoping to become a friend. I'm just not sure if that will be possible."

"If it's up to me, Siobhan, you and my father will be. Right now, though, we need to get back. We've been gone almost two hours."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack looked up at the sound of his daughter's laughter. He scowled to see her ensconced with the psychologist. He went back to his work and was startled a few moments later to see Sydney at his elbow.

"Dad, you wanted to speak with me?"

He looked around and replied, "Let's go to the conference room for privacy." Once there, Jack began his warning. "Sydney, you _should_ know that working with the FBI is a dubious proposition, at best. Becoming friendly with those people is not a good idea. We don't know her true agenda."

"Siobhan doesn't have any agenda beyond capturing Yusef Hamass."

"You're on a first name basis with that woman?"

"Dad, I had lunch with her. She is a perfectly nice woman. You're making too much out of this."

"And you are far too trusting. What exactly did you talk about?"

Sydney blushed and had the good grace to look chagrinned, "You."

"Pardon me?"

"She wanted to know why you've been so rude to her. We're all going to be working together for a long while, and we can't be at each other's throats over petty differences."

"What did you tell her?" Jack gritted out.

"I wanted her to understand that it wasn't personal. That you hate _all_ psychologists," Sydney smiled, teasing her father.

"Why is it so important that this woman likes me?"

"No reason. Just_ try_ to get to know her, Dad. She wasn't playing doctor at lunch. So she'll respect whatever boundaries you put up."

"Don't play matchmaker, Sydney. I will be civil and nothing more."

She sighed and nodded, then went back to work. Jack followed after her and was surprised to find Siobhan Porter waiting at his desk.

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing in particular. I wanted to let you know that I'm willing to look past your hostility, and attempt a working relationship."

"Fine," he answered, curtly.

Siobhan frowned, knowing she'd been dismissed. "_Well_," she thought, "_I guess I'll kill him with kindness._"

Over the next few days, Siobhan made it a point to attempt a conversation with Jack every morning and afternoon. They were generally short, with Jack either giving her a long hard stare or walking away to signal the end of the discussion. She didn't know if she was making an impact or not.

Jack wasn't sure what to make of her. People did not seek him out for idle conversations. He didn't know if he was beginning to like her or if she was just completely annoying the hell out him. Yet there was a part of him, deep down, that couldn't help but enjoy the fact that a woman, other than his daughter, was willingly seeking him out to talk to him.

Late Friday afternoon, Jack looked up from more intel that had come in on Hamass to see Siobhan hovering.

"Can I help you?" he asked, coldly. He had a headache and was not in the mood for verbal hopscotch.

"Not really. But I'd like to help you."

"No, thanks," he replied and began shuffling around the papers. "_What the hell had Sydney told this woman?_" he thought, reflecting on his conversation with her earlier in the week.

"There's no reason to be so antagonistic," Siobhan had finally decided to come clean with Jack. "I told Sydney that I'd like to be your friend, as adolescent as that might sound."

"Why?"

"Because you need one."

Jack grabbed several files and walked briskly away from Siobhan, not sure why that comment affected him so much. Doggedly, she followed him out to his car.

"What is it about me that scares you so much, Agent Bristow?" Siobhan didn't know why she was pressing him; it wasn't like her.

"What is it that you want from me?" he countered.

"Whatever you can offer," she laid a hand on his forearm and felt him stiffen. "I won't push you, but please understand that I have no ulterior motive."

Jack didn't answer as she removed her hand and walked away. He was unsettled as he drove home. For some reason, Siobhan Porter haunted his thoughts. Even as he tried to steel himself against her, Jack could feel his resolve weakening.

Once home, he poured himself a glass of his favorite Irish whiskey. He couldn't trust the FBI, he just couldn't . . . and yet . . . There was something about her that made him want to . . . No. He wouldn't give in. Jack poured another drink and quickly tossed it back. He continued his pattern until he saw no more images of Siobhan. He managed to make it to his bed, where he fell asleep, fully clothed.

The next day was Saturday; Jack and Sydney usually had brunch together. Sydney let herself in at 11:15, surprised to find the door still locked and no sign of her father, let alone any food.

"Dad?" she called. "Did you forget it was your turn?" She made her way upstairs to his bedroom. She knocked on the door, wanting to alert him to her presence if he was 'indisposed.' There was still no answer, so she opened the door. She found Jack face down on the bed, suit rumpled and smelling like alcohol. "Dad," she shook him.

"Hmmpf . . . Wha . . .?"

"Dad, it's time to get up."

"Siny?" he slurred.

"Yeah. Let's get you something to change into. Come on, Dad, you gotta sit up."

"Oh, Sydney. It's Saturday, I'm gonna make you an extra speshul brunch!"

"God, you smell like a gin joint, Dad! Do you think you can manage a shower by yourself?"

"Of course!" Jack was indignant.

Sydney helped Jack to the bathroom and then made her way to the kitchen. Thirty minutes later, she had coffee brewing and bacon, eggs, and pancakes on the griddle. Jack entered, just as the last batch was finished.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"Just coffee. Sydney, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have . . ."

"Here you go." Sydney had filled a plate for him in addition to the requested mug of coffee. She placed a hand on his shoulder before saying, "I don't know why you felt the need to drink last night. But you don't need to justify it to me."

"Sydney," Jack's voice was pained, "I'm not sure how to handle Dr. Porter."

She tried to keep her face neutral at his admission. She sat down across from him with her own plate. "Siobhan isn't trying to do anything other than her job, Dad. She wants to have a working relationship with everyone on the task force."

"I understand that, but . . ."

"Dad, haven't you ever been friends with a woman?"

"Besides your mother? No."

Sydney was shocked. Her father was a good-looking man. Even now, in his mid-fifties, he was a head turner; she saw the way female agents looked at him. She had to believe the same was true when he was in college.

"Don't look so surprised. I was very studious when I was younger, and very private," he quirked an eyebrow, daring her to laugh.

She raised her hands in defense, "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Your mother was the only woman I was ever friends with. I was never really comfortable with women unless it was in the context of work," Jack looked faintly embarrassed to be telling his daughter this. "I don't think I know how to have a social relationship with Dr. Porter.

"Why don't you let nature take its course. Let Siobhan guide your actions. And try not to yell at her anymore." Sydney thought a minute, "Maybe you two should have lunch together."

"Sydney . . ." he warned.

"Just kidding. Honestly, Dad, just take it slow."

Jack nodded thoughtfully.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning rolled around with Siobhan determined to stay away from Jack. As luck would have it, she didn't see him until nearly noon. And _he _came to see _her_.

"Dr. Porter, could we speak privately?" he asked politely.

"Sure."

He led her to the same office where she'd seen him speak to Sydney on her first day. He closed the door behind them and indicated for her to sit.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior last week. I've been unaccountably rude. I'd like to start again, if we could."

"I'd like that quite a bit," she replied, pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. Siobhan put out her hand, "Well, Agent Bristow, here's to starting fresh."

He took her hand; she was amazed to see her hand engulfed by his larger one, and she hadn't been expecting such warmth either. Siobhan, reveling in the softness, blushed and nearly missed what he was saying. Mentally, she berated herself for acting like a schoolgirl.

"To starting fresh. And call me Jack."

"Siobhan." She grinned as she realized they were still shaking hands. A small smile crept to the corners of his mouth as well.

"We should get back to work," he said, pulling away suddenly.

"Alright. See you at the briefing?"

He nodded and they went their separate ways.

Sydney watched as, over the next few weeks, her father and Siobhan grew closer. It started with them greeting one another at the beginning of the day and saying good-bye at the end. Then they began conversing throughout the day, usually about Hamass, but occasionally about personal matters. By the time a month had passed (with Yusef Hamass acquiring more and more sensitive materials) they were eating lunch together at his desk several times a week.

One day, much to Sydney's surprise and amusement, Jack and Siobhan _went out_ for lunch. She grinned broadly at her father as he held the door for Siobhan. He gave her a small smile in return and headed out.

At the small bistro around the corner from the office, they say awkwardly awaiting their food. Jack lightly drummed his fingers on the table while Siobhan enjoyed the view. At last she put her hand over his.

"Jack, if you're not ready to do this . . ."

He cut her off, "I'm fine. I just haven't been out to lunch in a while." "_With a woman_," he added, mentally. "I usually eat in the office by myself or with Sydney."

"I understand," she said. "But this doesn't have to be any different than _our_ lunches at the office."

He nodded once and asked, "So where did you grow up?"

"North Carolina. Southern belle through and through. We used to watch NASCAR all the time. My dad took us to what's now the Lowe's International Speedway every year. We'd camp in the infield for the weekend, it was great!

"What about you? Where did you grow up?"

"I was born in London, Ontario," Jack hesitated before continuing, "My parents were killed in a car accident when I was six. I was sent to live with my uncle here in the States."

When Jack failed to give more details Siobhan asked gently, "Didn't you get along with him?"

"Oliver Donahue was a hard man to like. He was a bachelor Marine and ran the house that way. He only took me in because of his sense of duty; he was my mother's brother and the only family I had left.

"We never got along. The first day I was with him, he told me to stop crying and act like a man. He refused to call me Jack, my mother's nickname for me. Until his dying day, he referred to me as 'Jonathon' or 'my nephew.'"

"But surely he showed you some affection?"

"The only good thing I can say about the man is that he did instill a love for this country in me. As for anything else, we stayed out of each other's ways and were civil when we had to interact."

Their meals arrived at that moment and Siobhan was able to surreptitiously wipe away a tear that had formed. "I'm sorry. It must have been very lonely for you."

Jack looked chagrinned to have revealed so much to her when even Sydney didn't know. "I shouldn't have said so much. It's not exactly a happy topic, now is it?"

"I didn't mean to bring up painful memories, I just want to know you better."

They were both silent for a moment as they enjoyed their meals, a double cheeseburger with everything for Jack and chicken strips for Siobhan.

"So, what kind of music do you like?" she asked tentatively.

"Classical, classic rock and country. I'll try almost anything except rap. How about you?"

"Country, of course. Classical, some New Age and Celtic."

"What's the last book you read?"

"The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom. So interesting his take on what happens when we die. He thinks we're all connected to each other; one life touches the next."

Jack looked pensively as he chewed on his French Fries. "What about some one like Irina Derevko? How does she figure in?"

"She gave you Sydney, Jack. Isn't that enough to explain why she was in your life?" Siobhan asked, surprised that he's opened up to her.

"She also gave me 20 years of pain and second-guessing myself," Jack's face, which had relaxed from its usual stoniness, hardened with the remembered betrayal.

"Jack, you need to forgive her and yourself if you want to move on . . ."

"We should get back to the office," he cut her off.

As they both stood, she grabbed his hand and said, "When you're ready to talk about her, I'm here. In the meantime, I want to get to know the real you. The one you hide behind the mask of CIA agent; the one I saw a glimpse of today." Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She went outside to wait while he paid the bill and they walked back to the rotunda together.

The following week, Jack and Siobhan went out for lunch, again. They agreed to meet in the rotunda, since they were working on separate issues and would be at opposite ends of the floor. Jack was so engrossed in his work that he didn't look at the clock until it was almost too late. Gathering up his things, he rushed out to the rotunda, only to be stopped by Nadia.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bristow, could you take a look at . . ."

"Not now. Leave the papers in my office," he said, tersely.

"But it has to do with Hamass' movements, his associates."

"Let me see it." Jack was unaware that Siobhan was watching this encounter from Sydney's cubicle. "This could be what we need. Do a background check on this man. Find out who else he's been associating with during the last year." He started to walk away, then turned back to say, "Good work."

Jack made his way to the elevator banks and saw Siobhan walking over from the direction of his daughter's cubicle. "Ready?"

"Absolutely."

After they'd ordered, Siobhan stared at Jack, pensively.

"Something the matter?" he asked.

"What did Nadia want? I saw you two talking while I was waiting."

"She had some intel on the Hamass case that needs to be investigated further," he said, tensely.

"Is it hard working with her?"

"Where is that coming from?"

"You just seem uncomfortable talking to her, about her. I can't even imagine . . ."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nadia is the result of an affair your wife had with your best friend. The working relationship has to be strange, at the very least."

"Irina is dead and Arvin is a fugitive, in the first place. In the second, I would _never_ blame Nadia for the choices of her parents." Jack was offended.

"I'm sorry. It just looked like you were trying to give Nadia the brush off."

"I wasn't, I mean . . . I was, but not like . . ." Jack wouldn't meet her eyes as he continued, "I was in a hurry to get to our lunch."

Siobhan smiled and, taking pity on him, changed the subject, "So how do Sydney and Nadia like sharing the apartment?"

"Fine. Sydney's always wanted a sister and now she has one."

She was surprised to hear the tone of regret in his voice, "Jack?"

"Growing up, Sydney was always creating imaginary friends. I often heard her refer to them as sisters, sometimes brothers. And when we found out about Nadia, she admitted that she'd wanted a sister."

She read between the lines and interpreted what wasn't said. "You wanted more children?"

He nodded and said quietly, but with vehemence, "Nadia should have been mine."

Siobhan reached across the table to take his hand, "You still can be a father figure to her. With Arvin Sloane in hiding, she has no one except Sydney. She grew up in an orphanage, Jack. Despite being a grown woman, don't you think she longs for a mother's or father's love? You _could_ give her that."

Their food arrived and Jack was grateful for the reprieve.

"Just think about it, Jack. Talk to Sydney and see what she thinks, alright?"

He nodded again and their conversation turned to more mundane topics. They were still getting to know one another and Jack was feeling as though he were back in high school. He never had been particularly comfortably in social situations. And he'd only been on a few dates when he'd met 'Laura.'

Oh, he was good at putting up a front of confidence, but he didn't feel that way. Laura had been the first one to really put him at ease. Although, thinking back now, she hadn't seen through the mask; she'd taken him at face value.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright? You seem nervous."

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Your hands. They haven't stopped moving since we sat down."

"It's nothing."

"I don't want to push anything. We'll go as slow as you like."

It was a few moments before he answered. "I'm not good with women. And I haven't been on date since college."

"I said it before and I'll say it again, now. I want to know the real you. Just be yourself. You don't need to put up a front with me."

"I'll try," he agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

Six weeks after Siobhan joined the task force, the CIA finally got some intel that was worth looking into. The information that Nadia had shown Jack had led to the capture of one of Hamass' operatives. The man, thinking of his own well being, gave up the location of the organization's stronghold as well as the plan for retrieving the bio-weapon they had recently stolen files on.

"Sydney, I want you, Vaughn, Nadia, and Weiss to lead a team to Mosul and neutralize Hamass and his cohorts," Dixon directed at the briefing. "Jack, you and Siobhan will go to Beirut and recover the weapon for us. Each team should meet with Marshall for OpTech within the hour."

Sydney looked over at her father. He looked a bit stunned to be going on a mission with Siobhan. She raised an eyebrow and made to go over to him, but he waved her away and stood as Siobhan approached. Sydney hid a grin and went to prepare for her own mission.

Siobhan glanced at Jack, "Are you alright with this? Us going into the field together?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I don't relish having you or Sydney going into these Middle Eastern countries. Iraq and Iran are notorious for their mistreatment of women."

"I can take care of myself, and from what I've seen and heard, so can Sydney."  
"That's not the point. Just the fact that you are strong, intelligent women is bound to piss them off. To the point of killing you for an ill-advised comment."

"Jack, we can't worry about what might happen. We can only deal with problems as they arise."

"When was the last time you were in the field?" Jack asked, abruptly.

Siobhan looked a little embarrassed as she answered, "It's been about a year, but I keep myself current on combat training."

Jack shrugged his shoulders, "There's no substitute for the real thing. Let's go see Marshall."

After their meeting with Marshall, everyone agreed to meet back at the airport after packing for their respective trips. Once there, each team was to board separate flights to the Mid-East. At the gates of the terminal, Jack looked at his daughter with concern.

"Be safe," he said, kissing her cheek.

Sydney hid her surprise at this public display of affection, however small. She returned the gesture, saying, "I will. You do the same. And take care of Siobhan."

Jack and Siobhan boarded their own plane; they were now Professors Phillip and Joanne O'Rourke. Their cover was that they were on a honeymoon trip to see the birthplace of civilization and they wanted to research some of the ancient wonders and biblical sites for a dissertation.

Siobhan wondered how Jack felt about their alias of a married couple. She looked at him but his face was inscrutable as they sat waiting for the plane to take off. He turned and caught her staring. He said nothing but returned her stare until she had to turn away.

Gathering her wits, Siobhan asked, "Are you ok with our cover?"

"It is what it is."

"Well, that was a nice non-answer. Good avoidance technique, Jack!" She was only half joking, as her frustration with his ability to cut himself off was at a peak.

"Don't analyze me!" he said, harshly. "And use the alias!"

The rest of the six-hour flight was spent in an uncomfortable silence. Jack didn't know how to be with Siobhan. As he had told Sydney, he didn't do well in social situations, especially when they involved women; it had been so long since he'd dated and even longer since he had trusted anyone, save Sydney, with his emotions. Being thrown into the field with Siobhan as his 'wife' was disconcerting at best. Couple that with her psychology background and, well, it was a recipe for disaster.

Siobhan was still trying to figure Jack out. She had thought they were getting closer and yet he wouldn't answer a simple question. She supposed it had to do with the damage Irina Derevko had inflicted upon him. "_If she wasn't already dead_," Siobhan thought, "_I'd kill her with my bare hands!_"

Once they landed, they rented a car and drove to a little village on the outskirts of Beirut. It was small enough to be off the beaten path, but large enough to have a hotel with reasonable amenities.

"Thank you for choosing our hotel, Mr. O'Rourke. I'm sure you will enjoy your stay here. I must warn you, though: We have been having difficulties with our hot water heater. I am afraid that getting hot water for showering is . . . how do you say? Hit or miss?"

Siobhan made a noise of protest before she could stop herself. Both men gave her a withering look. She lowered her head, knowing her refusal to wear the head garb was insulting enough to the concierge without her complaining about the service.

"I'm sure we'll manage just fine, Mr. Habib."

He showed them to their room, explained how to get room service, then left them to unpack. They went about their tasks silently, neither one daring to look at the humongous bed that dominated the room.

Finally, Jack glanced at Siobhan and said, "I'll sleep on the couch. You take the bed."

"Are you sure? I don't mind sharing," she teased.

Jack's head snapped in her direction, the tips of his ears bright red. "The couch will be fine."

"Jack, we're both adults. You won't fit on that tiny couch. We'll share the bed."

"I'm not entirely comfortable with that," he responded, truthfully.

"You're too big for that couch," Siobhan reiterated. "We need to be in top form. If you don't get a good night's sleep because you toss and turn and probably fall off the couch, then you're putting the mission at risk. Just think about it," she added at his at his skeptical expression. "Do you mind if I shower first?"

Jack nodded and she disappeared into the bathroom. He sat on the too small couch, rubbing his eyes and contemplating his feelings about and for Siobhan. He had never imagined that he would let anyone back into his life. He had been distancing himself from everyone for so long that he didn't know how to be open with Siobhan, as much as he might want to.

He decided to go for a walk; he scribbled a quick note and left it on the bed for her to find. The hotel had beautiful grounds, Jack noted as he opened the top few buttons on his dress shirt. Though it was dusk, the heat was still oppressive.

"Jack Bristow," came an accented voice from the shadows.

"Katya," Jack returned, coldly. "What do you want?" His mind raced; just a few months ago she'd tried to kill Sydney and now the FBI had killed Irina.

"Revenge," she paused, "for my sister's death."


	6. Chapter 6

"Then why come to me? It was the FBI who carried out the hit." Jack was blase.

"On orders from Senior CIA agent Jonathon Donahue Bristow. Tell me Jack, does Sydney know you had her mother killed?" Jack made no response, knowing there was nothing he _could_ say. "Interesting. So what shall I do to repay you? Take your daughter or your lover?"

He struggled to keep his face a mask of calm, but balled his hands into fists. "I'll repeat myself: What do you want?"

"For now, I'll be satisfied with the bio-weapon you have been sent to retrieve being left alone."

"Let me make this perfectly clear: You do not dictate whether I will carry out a mission. And coming here without back-up was poor planning on your part."

Jack feinted to his left, then came to the right to grab Katya's arm and twisted it around her back, slamming her into the side of the hotel. He bent down to growl in her ear, "Don't ever make the mistake of threatening those close to me. I promise you, you will regret it."

"I didn't picture you as someone who would like it rough, Jack. I don't like to admit it, but I find you even sexier."

Unexpectedly, Katya brought her elbow back, connecting with Jack's cheekbone. Jack sidestepped the elbow meant for abdomen and executed a neat leg sweep. In the next second, Katya was back on her feet after kipping up. He landed a solid blow to her kidney before she ducked his next attempt. Turning around, she clapped her forearms around his ears. He stumbled, ears ringing. She took advantage of his being off balance to deliver several hard punches to his face, back, and stomach, kicking him in the groin to assure his incapacitation.

Katya spoke again as Jack lay on the ground, "You have been warned. If you choose to remove the weapon, there will be consequences." She melted into the shadows, leaving him to gasp for breath.

When his vision cleared and his was able to catch his breath, Jack made it to his feet and stumbled back to the room. "Siobhan!" he called. "Siobhan?" His eyes darted around the room, looking for signs of a struggle. They finally landed on the door to the bathroom. It was closed, but light shone from underneath. Without thinking, Jack barreled right in; sure he'd find Siobhan injured or worse.

"Jack! What're you doing?"

At first, he was so relieved to find her alive that it didn't register that Siobhan was completely naked. When it did, he began to back of the room, apologizing profusely.

"Wait, Jack," she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I, uh, ran into Katya Derevko. While I was out getting some fresh air."

"Did you know you're bleeding?" Jack put a hand to his temple. "And your cheek and you have a split lip. Let me put something on and I'll take a better look."

He waited only a few minutes before she came out wearing light cotton pajama bottoms and a sea green chemise. She carried the first aid kit she'd found in the bathroom cabinet.

"So what exactly did Derevko want?"

"She wanted to get even for Irina's death."

Siobhan stopped fiddling with the bandages for a moment and looked at him. "Then why come to you?"

Jack wouldn't meet her gaze as he responded, "Because I gave the shoot to kill order." He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, but it wasn't the one he got.

"Oh, Jack. I'm so sorry," she took his hand. "It must have been difficult to make that decision."

He was taken aback. Usually when people found out about the things he'd done, they assumed that it didn't affect him, that he had no feelings. They thought of him as some sort of robot who used his skills at game theory to plot the best possible outcome for himself. They certainly didn't express sympathy for him.

"So you don't thing me a cold-hearted bastard for having the mother of my child killed?"

"I assume there was a good reason. Although I also assume that Sydney knows nothing about your involvement?"

"You're right on both counts. Irina was becoming more and more obsessed with the Rambaldi prophecy. While we were searching for Sydney, she didn't seem to care about Rambaldi at all; I thought maybe she'd given it up. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"She was so deeply enmeshed that she was willing to let Sydney and Nadia fight to the death to fulfill some script of this lunatic's. I couldn't allow either of them to be used as pawns in a 500-year-old game.

"It's sad, really, how many people have let Milo Rambaldi take over their lives. It becomes an addiction; something they have to have even though it hurts everyone around them," he mused.

Siobhan resumed setting up the antibacterial cleanser. "You were protecting your daughter, and her sister," she paused. "Still, it had to be hard. You loved her." She was fishing and she knew it; she couldn't believe that she could be jealous of a dead woman.

"Any feelings I might have had for that woman disappeared when I realized that she was willing to sacrifice Sydney."

She leaned over to begin cleaning the cut on his forehead. "So what else did Katya want?"

When he didn't answer right away, Siobhan glanced down to see Jack staring at her breasts, which were perfectly aligned with his eyes. When he realized he'd been asked a question, he looked up to find that he'd been caught. "I'm injured, not dead," he offered, lamely.

To his surprise and relief, she laughed. "I think that's the first time I've heard to make a joke!"

He didn't know how to respond, so he answered her question instead.

"So your attempt at apprehending her went a little awry. And you came up here to find me . . ." Something wasn't quite adding up. "Why were you so intent on finding that you practically took the door off its hinges?"

"I was afraid," he said, softly.

"Afraid?"

"Katya threatened to eliminate Sydney . . . or . . ."

"Or?" she prompted.

"Or you. I was afraid she'd gotten to you."

"Oh, Jack." Siobhan had finished bandaging his cuts. She knew it had been hard for him to admit that, so she waited for a cue from him.

He sighed, not really sure what to say. Rather than dig deeper he asked, "Can we just go to bed? We've got to be up early tomorrow and I still need to shower."

She nodded, but grabbed his hand as he stood. "Thank you, Jack."

He searched her face for a moment then nodded in return."

When Jack stepped out of the bathroom, he felt refreshed. He looked around and found Siobhan already in bed.

"Care to join me?" she asked.

He hesitated a moment, looking at the hand that patted the mattress beside her. Then, before he lost the nerve, Jack made his way to the bed.

Siobhan winced mentally and berated herself, "_Why the hell am I being so flirty. Slow down or you'll lose any trust you've gained._"

They both lay stiffly on their respective sides of the bed. Eventually, Siobhan drifted off to sleep, lulled by the comfort of Jack's nearness. Jack lay awake for a long time, trying to process his reaction to Katya's threat to Siobhan. He finally made himself relax and listen to her breathing before falling asleep.

Sometime later, she couldn't be sure how long she'd been asleep, Siobhan was awakened suddenly. At first she couldn't figure out where she was, then she realized that at some point during the night, she'd rolled over. She was now on her side, her head on Jack's chest, one arm across his stomach.

Even as she smiled against his shoulder, enjoying being this close to him, she again heard the noise that had woken her up in the first place. Jack let out a low moan that sounded like 'Sydney.' A moment later, he bolted upright, oblivious to Siobhan and shouting his daughter's name.

Jack was breathing heavily as Siobhan sat up next to him, tentatively putting a hand on his back. She didn't say anything, but waited for him to speak.

"I dream about her when she's away . . . on missions. She doesn't know how much I worry about her. I don't intend on telling her, either," Jack stopped, still staring straight ahead. Siobhan began rubbing his back in slow, gentle stokes. She felt his hand grip her free one as he continued.

"It's always a variation on the same theme. And I can't ever save her. My own private hell," he turned to look at her finally. There were tears glistening, ones that he refused to let fall, in his eyes as he confessed his greatest fear. "I don't want to lose her, not when we've just found each other. She's been my reason for living, the only one I have left!"

"Jack, you know you can't control how Sydney's missions will turn out. But you also know that she's a very skilled agent; how do you think she's made it this far? I know how hard it is for you to think about losing her, but, and I'm not trying to be glib here, you both knew what you were getting into when you joined the CIA.

"Sydney wouldn't want you to worry this much about her. She wouldn't want you to make yourself sick. She also wouldn't want you to think you have no one else," Siobhan wrapped her arms around Jack. "I want to be part of your life. Let me in, please."

He returned her embrace, silently. They lay back on the bed, still entwined. "I don't know how," he whispered.

"I'll help you. We'll work on it together. But right now we should get some sleep."


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Jack woke to find that he and Siobhan hadn't moved from their positions of the night before. Though they hadn't so much as kissed, waking up in her arms felt more right to him than the myriad of mornings after he'd had over the years.

As much as he wanted to, Jack knew he couldn't stay like this all day. Carefully, he slipped out of her arms and padded into the bathroom to shave. When he came out clean-shaven and dressed, Siobhan was still asleep.

He sat next to her, gently rubbing her shoulder as he whispered, "Siobhan, time to get up. We've got a bio-weapon to steal." He saw a faint smile on her face and she opened her eyes.

"Aw, do we have to?" She took in his appearance, "Why didn't you get me up sooner? Aren't we going to be late?"

"It's still early, actually. We've go about an hour and a half before we have to leave. Besides, I wanted to let you sleep after last night," he paused. "Thank you. You shouldn't have to deal with my . . . issues while we're on assignment."

"Jack, haven't you figured it out yet? I'm in this for the long haul. The good, the bad, and the ugly. As much or as little as you're willing to give." She gave his hand a squeeze and kissed his cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

An hour later, they had their bags in the rental car and were on their way to a local museum. A man named Muhamad Akbar Sharif, who was an American expatriate and international terrorist, owned it. It was believed that he had ties to Osama Bin Laden.

They were introduced to the curator, who informed them that he had several pieces that would be of interest to them. He showed them to a private viewing room, gave a brief history of each object, and left the room, letting them know he would return in a half an hour to check on them.

As soon as the door closed, Jack sprung into action. Siobhan ran to lock the door then joined Jack at the far end of the room next to a door marked 'private.' That was where the weapon was being stored. After picking the lock, they stared at what was behind the door.

Approximately a half-gallon of an amber colored liquid sat in a hexagonal shaped container. The vial was placed on top of what seemed to be a weight sensitive cube, surrounded by glass on all sides except the top. An intricate patter of lasers criss-crossed the interior of the glass; wires protruded from the base, connecting with the wall.

"Could you shine the flashlight for me?" he asked. Jack needed to examine the wires to determine which to cut. After a few moments, he saw a small, unobtrusive wire at the bottom of the apparatus what appeared to be the lynchpin. Just as he cut the wire, they heard a knock at the door.

"Professors?" Is everything all right? Why is the door locked?"

"Go, stall him," Jack directed Siobhan. He still needed time to deal with the weight sensitive base.

As he worked, he subconsciously took in Siobhan's apology to the curator. She was trying to keep the man from entering the room, but he was not going to listen to a woman. Jack had just managed to get the vial out of the container and into his bag when the curator spoke directly to him.

"Professor, you will put the container down now or I will not hesitate to hurt your woman."

Jack looked up to see the man nudging Siobhan toward him, one arm twisted behind her back and a knife at her throat. She was calm, but he could tell that she was concerned. He lowered the bag, slowly, not wanting to make any sudden moves.

"Are you alright?" he spoke directly to Siobhan, trying to catch her eye. After she murmured a soft 'yes,' he turned his attention to the curator. "Mr. Arkesh, you clearly have no idea what you are involved with. There is no need for violence; I'm willing to pay you if you help us." With an almost imperceptible nod to Siobhan, he made to go for the bag.

At the mention of money, Arkesh's eyes lit up greedily and his grip on Siobhan loosened. She took advantage of this by bringing her heel down on his instep and thrusting an elbow into his midsection before dropping to the ground.

Arkesh was disoriented but he still managed to arc the knife in her direction. He grinned savagely when he felt flesh give way beneath his blade. His triumph was short-lived, however.

Jack delivered an open palm to the man's nose, breaking it instantly. This was followed by a vicious jab and in the next moment he'd slammed an elbow upward into the Arab's chin. Jack tripped Arkesh backward and hit the back of his head as he landed.

Jack checked for a pulse, "He's just unconscious. Come on." He held out a hand to help Siobhan up. "There's a safehouse about 20 miles from here. We need to get there and request immediate extraction. Are you ok?"

Siobhan nodded, saying nothing about her injury. She didn't think it was serious; besides, Jack was right. They needed to get away before anyone discovered what they'd done.

Fifteen minutes later, they had made it to the safehouse and Jack had used the sat phone to request extraction. He had been told that it would be at lead 12 hours before the CIA could get to them. In the meantime, he and Siobhan were supposed to 'sit tight.'

Jack walked back to the bedroom and saw Siobhan going through their bags. "What are you . . . You're bleeding, Siobhan," he changed direction mid-sentence. "Why didn't you say something?"

"It's just a scratch."

"No, it's not. Take off your shirt." Jack found the first aid kit and dragged a footstool next to the bed. He took some alcohol swabs and cleaned the now oozing wound. It was about two inches long and fairly shallow. Nonetheless, Jack was taking no chances. He dug around the kit again, finding the needle and thread. "Shit!" he swore softly.

"What?"

"You need stitches, but there's no anesthetic."

"You can do it?"

"Yes."

"How many?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"Ten."

Siobhan thought a moment, then said, "Go ahead."

Jack searched her eyes, then went to work. She sucked in a breath as the needle went in the first time, but didn't move. Jack rested his free hand on her bare shoulder. As he sewed, he rubbed his thumb back and forth in an unconscious attempt to comfort her.

At last, he placed a bandage over the now sutured cut and put both hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she answered, shakily, not looking at him.

"Siobhan," he sat down in front of her, not surprised to see tears streaming down her face. "It's all done. You did great!" He wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Without thinking, Siobhan put her arms around Jack, sobbing into his shoulder. The adrenaline had finally worn off and she was both physically and d emotionally exhausted. For a second, Jack didn't know what to do. Then he returned her embrace, murmuring nonsense words to soothe her.

When her crying subsided, Siobhan pulled away, saying, "You must think I'm a complete ass."

"Not at all. I don't know how many people who could have taken 10 stitches without . . ."

She cut him off, "That's not why, well it was part of it. Jack, that man at the museum . . . he threatened to do things to me, to you . . . I was afraid for you . . . I tried to stop him . . ."

"Look at me, Siobhan. Men like that know how to play on your fears. I didn't think that he was involved with Sharif's operation; I had I would not have had you bother with trying to distract him. I'd've grabbed the damn weapon and gotten us the hell out of there."

"Thank you for saving me."

"You didn't need saving. You did a pretty good job taking him out on your own. The only thing you needed was back up; if you hadn't watched for a signal from me, we would very likely be Sharif's prisoners by now."

They were both quiet for a moment. Jack suddenly became very aware of Siobhan's state of undress. Looking at her, his breath caught in his chest. Despite her disheveled appearance, the red eyes, and messy hair, Jack found her irresistibly beautiful.

Without conscious thought, Jack leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her lips. Siobhan closed her eyes and let him guide her actions. She put a hand on his cheek and nothing more.

Jack was unaware of when his hand slipped down to caress her breast until he heard Siobhan make a surprised noise in the back of her throat. Quickly he pulled away, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ." He stood up, backing away, "I shouldn't have . . . I'm so sorry . . . I can't."

"Why the hell not?" The psychologist in her knew why and knew that she shouldn't be so hostile. But the woman in her was angry and hurt. "I assume you enjoy my company? Find me attractive?"

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Silence filled the room until he admitted softly, "Yes."

"The what is wrong with you kissing me?"

To Jack's immense relief, the sat phone rang at that precise moment. He went to the living room to take the call. Left alone, Siobhan threw their things back in the bags, furiously.

Not waiting for Jack to return, Siobhan went into the bathroom to shower. A few minutes later, he came back to tell her that the extraction had been delayed another three hours, only to find the room empty.

Rather than wait for her to finish, Jack returned to the living room and lay down on the couch. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. He _knew_ he had made a mistake in kissing Siobhan.

He hadn't meant to fondle her breast, either. It was only when he'd felt her nipple harden that he'd realized what he was doing. Jack didn't want to treat Siobhan like the women he'd picked up in bars over the years; no commitment, no feelings, just sex. For the first time in 25 years, he wanted more than that. And he was pretty sure that he had just screwed it up with Siobhan.

He tried to even out his breathing when he heard her come into the room. He simply didn't know what to say to her.

"Jack? Are you awake?"

He kept his eyes shut and didn't respond.

"We need to talk, Jack . . . Please?"

He remained still, wanting to talk to her, but afraid of what he might reveal. Finally, when he heard her sigh and head back to the bedroom, he muttered a soft apology and rolled over.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack and Siobhan spoke little on the plane ride out of Lebanon. Once back in L.A., Jack avoided contact with her at all costs. He barely acknowledged her at the weekly briefings, which continued. For even though, their mission had been success, Sydney, Vaughn, and the others' hadn't gone quite as well; they'd taken many of Hamass' team prisoner, but Hamass himself had been nowhere to be found.

Sydney had noticed the discord between her father and Siobhan immediately. She hadn't had the opportunity to speak with either one, but was taking Jack to lunch that afternoon. Little did he know that she was determined to find out what had happened in Beirut that had them at odds.

Sydney waited until after their order had arrived to begin her interrogation. "Dad, what is up with you and Siobhan?"

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know what happened during your mission to make the two of you act so strangely, but you need to work it out. You're both miserable. Do you want to talk about it?" she offered.

"I don't think I'm entirely comfortable talking about my love life with my daughter," Jack paused and took a sip of water.

"Well, you better talk to someone. I heard Dixon say that he was sending you guys out again. Something about instructions for using the bio-weapon," she added at his questioning look.

"Damn it!"

"I thought you liked Siobhan, Dad? What's the problem?"

"I did something rather stupid." Sydney waited for her father to continue. "You read the mission report; you know Siobhan was injured, that I did her sutures. What isn't in there is that there was no anesthetic."

"Damn. Did she do alright?"

"She did great. Never made a sound, didn't move an inch. But when it was done, she was very upset," Jack looked away. "I kissed her and I touched her . . ."

"Ok, Dad. That falls under the category of 'too much information!'"

"Oh, God, sorry."

"Why do you think it was stupid? Did Siobhan slap you? Tell you to leave her alone?"

"No. She actually got angry with me for stopping. But Sydney . . ."

"Dad, she wanted you to kiss her and . . . other things. You should talk to _her_ about whatever is bothering you, cause beyond telling you to have fun wither, I'm _not_ equipped to handle this." Sydney glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see the woman of their discussion coming through the restaurant doors. "Siobhan!" she called, waving her over.

Jack's head whipped around, then back to Sydney, "Please tell me you didn't plan this."

"Of course not! I wish I had!" she teased.

"Sydney, Jack," Siobhan greeted them as Jack stood.

"We were just talking about you," Sydney said. "Dad was telling me about how brave you were when he stitched you up."

"Thank you, Sydney," said Jack, a warning in his voice.

"And how much he enjoys your company."

"Sydney . . ."

Siobhan watched the interaction between father and daughter with interest. There was something going on and she couldn't quite figure out what.

"And that he would like to _talk_ with you."

"Enough Sydney!" his tone was sharper than he intended and the teasing smile fell from her face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Me, too. I went a little overboard." She looked from Jack to Siobhan, interpreting their heated gazes and the perfect time for her to take her leave. "I need to get back, but why don't you two have a chat."

Jack stood once again and kissed her cheek, "Thank you for listening. You're too pushy for your own damn good, you know."

"See you later, Dad," she said, returning the gesture.

After Sydney left, they sat without speaking for several moments until:

"Jack . . ."

"Siobhan . . ."

They both laughed and waited for the other to continue. Siobhan decided to take the initiative. "Jack, I'm sorry about what I said in Beirut. I shouldn't have pushed you. I . . ."

"Would you like to have dinner tonight?"

She looked at him, quizzically, not sure if she'd heard him correctly. "Dinner?"

"Yes. There's a nice little Italian restaurant a few blocks from where I live. They've got a great chicken parmesan. So, care to join me?" he mimicked her words from the hotel.

"I'd love to. Should I meet you there?"

They decided to meet at the restaurant at seven, giving them both time to change after work. Heading back to the rotunda, they both were thinking the same thing: What have I gotten myself into?

At 6:55, Jack walked into _Italiano Reale_, having changed into fresh clothes after debating with himself for ten minutes about whether to wear cologne or not. In the end he'd gone with something simple and put on 'Old Spice.'

It wasn't long before Siobhan appeared and was led to the small corner table where Jack was waiting. He stood and held out her chair for her. "You look beautiful, Siobhan."

"Thank you," she replied as he sat. "You're looking pretty handsome yourself."

And it was true. He had changed from the dark suit he wore at the office into green dockers, a grey polo, and a matching sports jacket. She was wearing pale pink slacks and a cream colored sweater, a far cry from the serviceable suits she wore at the office.

"I want to apologize again, Jack. I had no right to attack you."

"I'm the one who needs to apologize. You have to understand some things about me . . . my life. After Laura . . . Irina died, I was put in solitary for six months by the CIA. When I was told what she had done, I denied it at first. She was my _wife_ for God's sake, not some Russian spy.

"Eventually, I had to accept it; there was too much evidence. The CIA let me out once they were convinced I wasn't working with her. To be honest, I haven't fully trusted anyone, except Sydney, since. That's the reason, the real reason, I haven't been on a date. How can I trust _any_ woman when the one I thought was the love of my life betrayed me so completely? How can I trust myself, for that matter, not to make the same mistake twice?"

"But surely there have been other women?"

"There have been plenty of one night stands. And that's why I pulled away in the safehouse. I didn't . . . I don't want another one night stand," he looked away. "For the first time in almost three decades, I want something more. And I'm trying my damnedest not to get in my own way."

Siobhan was quiet for several minutes. This was the most he'd opened up to her in two months. She had been given an outline of his life through his file, but there hadn't been any specifics. Certainly nothing about his emotional well-being.

"I know how hard it must have been to admit all that to me, Jack. And, I'm not analyzing you when I say this; you've bottled everything up for years, because you felt you've had to. You're a strong man; I think that's part of what attracted me to you. But you need to know that you don't have to keep your feelings compartmentalized with me."

They were both quiet again until after they'd ordered. Then Jack spoke, trying to break the tension that had built up. "Since we've exhausted my history, perhaps you could tell me about yours?" he quirked a small smile.

Siobhan had had a fairly typical childhood. She'd grown up in a small town where everyone knew everyone. And everyone worshipped Dale Earnhardt and Richard Petty. Nothing of real importance had happened to her until the FBI had recruited her.

"Ever been married?" Jack asked around a mouthful of pasta.

"No. I came close once, but he wanted me to leave the FBI. And I just couldn't do that."

"And no one since?"

"I didn't want to expose anyone to the life we lead. It just didn't seem fair, to either one of us. I've had some short term flings, but nothing serious."

"Why me?"

Siobhan paused mid-bite, "Excuse me?"

"Why did you pursue me?"

"I'm not really sure, other than I found you extremely attractive and intelligent. And I truly wanted to be your friend."

"And now?"

"I'd like more, but I'm not pressuring. I know we have to work together."

"Damn, that reminds me," he said suddenly. "Sydney says Dixon will be sending us on another mission."

"What for?"

"I believe it has something to do with retrieving instructions for operating the weapon."

They discussed mission possibilities until the check arrived, which Jack gallantly paid, asking, "Can I drop you at home?"

She agreed, seeing an opportunity to spend more time with him. In the car, she held his hand as he drove the short distance to her small ranch. He walked her to her door, his arm around her waist.

Siobhan turned to look at him once she'd unlocked the door. "I had a wonderful time, Jack. Thank you."

"I had a nice time, too. Thank you for listening and not running away," he paused then continued quietly, "We should do this again."

"Yeah, we should," she leaned in and gave Jack a soft kiss on the lips.

"What was that for?"

"You're a sweet man, Jack Bristow. Don't forget that. I'll see you at work tomorrow."


	9. Chapter 9

In the briefing room the next day, Dixon explained that one the men Sydney's team had captured had given them more information on the bio-weapon. "It's not enough that we have the weapon. There are instructions on how to activate it in Kazakhstan. If Hamass gets a hold of these instructions, he can arm the device remotely.

"Sydney, Nadia, Jack, Siobhan: you're going in as a family on vacation. The instructions are being held at a resort just south of the Russian border. Unfortunately, they're in two parts, in separate locations within the resort.

"Sydney and Nadia will retrieve the piece that is in the safe of the security office in the casino. Jack and Siobhan will go after the section that's located in the main security building.

"Once you have acquired your objective, make your way to the rendezvous point about ten miles away. When all team members have made it there, you will proceed to our safehouse in Tobolsk, Russia.

"It's actually a small villa," Dixon smiled at the four agents. "I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay. Call for your extraction when you get there. Wheels up in two hours. See Marshall for OpTech and get yourselves packed."

The next day, they were sitting in a hotel suite in Petropavl, Kazakhstan going over some last minute details. The tension in the room was high, as the odd dynamic between the four agents was making it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.

When they finished going over the schematics, Sydney pulled her father aside. They were sitting across from each other in two overstuffed chairs as she spoke, "Is there something wrong? Is it Nadia?"

"Why does everyone assume I have a problem with Nadia? I like her, I think she's an asset!"

"Who's everybody . . ."

"I don't blame her for her parentage . . ."

"Dad . . ."

"That's not her fault . . ."

"DAD!"

"What, Sydney?"

"You were sort of rambling. Who else asked you about Nadia?"

"Siobhan and I had a discussion about a week before our last mission. This probably isn't the best time to talk about this, but . . ."

"What is it, Dad?"

"Siobhan wanted me to talk to you about Nadia . . . about . . . Sydney, you know I don't blame Nadia, that I don't bear her any ill will?" When Sydney nodded, he continued.

"When your mother and I were married, I'd always envisioned lots of kids. I never intended for you to be an only child; I wanted you to have siblings. Irina knew that, I think that's what made it worse.

"But Nadia's parents are, for all intents and purposes, out of the picture. And I think she . . ."

"Dad if you're asking me how I'd feel if you were to be a . . . a father figure to Nadia, I think that's wonderful! She needs more family in her life."

The look of relief that crossed Jack's face surprised Sydney. "Dad, you're a good man. It's taken us a while to get to this point, but I'm truly honored to have you as my father. And I love you, very much!" She leaned over and hugged him just as Nadia and Siobhan approached.

"Jack . . . Sydney, we need to get ready," Siobhan said.

The Bristows nodded and the team went into action.

Two and a half hours later, Sydney and Nadia were waiting for Jack and Siobhan to rendezvous with them.

"Do you think we should go back?" Nadia asked.

"Let's give them a little . . . wait. Is that Siobhan?"

She was trudging up the path to the small warehouse, disheveled and alone. Sydney race out to meet her, frightened by the look on Siobhan's face.

"Where is he? Where's my father?" she demanded.

"I need to sit and I need water." Inside the warehouse Siobhan began her explanation. "We were ambushed. On the way out of the security building. We had already gotten our piece of the instructions. It was Katya Derevko."

"What? What the hell does she have to do with this?"

"Didn't Jack tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"When we were in Beirut, Katya showed up and threatened your father. She demanded that he abort the mission and implied that there would be consequences if he didn't. It seems as though this would be it." She got quiet.

"I think they assumed that Jack had the instructions. They went after him and paid little attention to me. We fought off three of them and started running.

"I thought he was right behind me. When I turned to check, two more men had grabbed him. Jack just yelled at me to run.

"He was right. I got the instructions out, but I saw Katya. She was beating the hell out of him while her men held him still.

"Sydney, I'm so sorry!" There were tears in her eyes when she finished.

"It's not your fault. But we've got to get him back. Nadia, contact Dixon. Tell him what's happened and that we're going back for Dad. Siobhan," Sydney said, turning to her, "is there any possibility that Katya is keeping Dad in that building?"

"It's possible, yes. There's a sub-basement that appeared to be blocked off from the rest of the building. It's plausible that she's interrogating Jack there."

"Fine. That's where we start."


	10. Chapter 10

"Jack, I told you that you would regret taking my weapon. And look where we have come to."

"Katya, if this is because I wouldn't sleep with you . . ."

Jack's wry sense of humor got him another kick to his ribs. He was pretty sure at least two of them were cracked, now. The rest of his body was filled with various bruises and cuts from the continued beatings Katya and her minions had inflicted upon in the past hours. They hadn't even asked him any questions . . . yet. Which made Jack slightly nervous, though he didn't show it.

"Do you think I'm as weak as my foolish sister? I don't need to have sex with you to get what I want. And right now I want to know why you had Irina killed."

"My reasons are my own."

As Katya let another blow fly, the door to the room burst in, revealing Siobhan, Sydney, and Nadia.

"Hands up, all of you!"

"Drop your weapons!"

Neither directive worked and soon the only one not engaged in hand-to-hand combat was Jack. Siobhan finished off her opponent and made her way to him. As she untied him, both Sydney and Nadia incapacitated the men they were fighting.

"Are you alright, Jack?" Siobhan asked as she helped him up.

"I've been better. Sydney? Nadia?" he acknowledged. "What are you doing here?"

"We weren't going to leave you behind, Dad."

"Besides, Jack, you're the one with the contacts we need to get into Russia. Of course we wouldn't leave you," Nadia offered a small smile.

"You two tie up those men. Where did Katya go?" Jack suddenly realized his erstwhile sister-in-law was nowhere to be found.

"She must have gotten away in the confusion," Siobhan answered him.

"Then let's get out of here before she brings back reinforcements."

They drove two hours to the border to meet Jack's contact. Anton Sabayche was able to supply them with a new car and the necessary papers to cross into Russia.

The six and a half hour ride to Tobolsk was hell on Jack's ribs. He said nothing and tried to ignore the concerned looks the three women kept shooting at him. So it was a relief when they finally arrived at the villa.

They carried their bags in, each staking out a bedroom of their own. Jack shut his door and sat down on the bed, breathing heavily. Not 30 seconds later Siobhan entered without knocking, carrying her bags.

Jack stood up quickly, then wished he hadn't. Nevertheless, he remained upright as he said, "I'm sure there are plenty of rooms in this place. We don't have to share."

"No, we don't, but I've gotten used to sleeping with you. Sorry, wrong choice of words," she apologized. "You're hurt, Jack. Something other than those superficial wounds. I want to make sure you're feeling okay."

"I'm fine. Just a little sore. Nothing hot shower won't cure."

And with that, he grabbed some clean clothes and headed into the large bathroom. He ran the water until the room was steaming before undressing and getting under the spray. Jack leaned against the tiles, letting the hot spray cascade over his aching body. He was so relaxed, despite his difficulty in breathing that he didn't notice Siobhan until she slipped into the shower behind him.

"What're you doing?" he sputtered.

"You're hurt, exhausted, and practically asleep on your feet. Let me help you!"

Jack kept his back to her, trying to cover his embarrassment, as well as certain body parts. "You don't need to do this. I've been showering alone for some time now."

"Honestly, Jack!" Siobhan didn't leave and didn't ask permission. She simply scrubbed up the washcloth and began rubbing it across his back and shoulders.

He nearly groaned at the innocent, yet intimate contact. She moved the cloth in slow circles down his arms, across his neck and he still didn't turn. So Siobhan let her hands wind around his chest and abdomen. As she made her way down his left side, she heard Jack's sharp intake of breath.

"Don't."

"Jack, if you think . . . This isn't . . . sexual. I'm not trying to . . ."

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

When he didn't answer, she gently forced him to turn and face her. She was shocked to see his left side a massive purple and black bruise. "Jesus, Jack! When were you going to say something?"

"There's not a whole hell of a lot you can do for broken ribs, Siobhan, you know that," he turned away, abruptly. He immediately regretted it, becoming light-headed and short of breath again. "Let me finish here," he said, harshly.

Siobhan said nothing, but went back to kneading his neck and shoulders. She waited until his breathing had slowed, the poured shampoo into her hand and began massaging it into his scalp.

When they'd both rinsed off, she reached around him to turn off the water and open the stall door. Snatching the two towels, she stepped out of the shower hand him one and wrapping the other around herself. Suddenly self-conscious, Siobhan wasn't able to meet Jack's eye.

They dressed silently, avoiding looking at one another for more than a few seconds at a time. Jack often had to stop to catch his breath and Siobhan prevented him from putting on his t-shirt.

"I want to tape up those ribs. Let's go back to the bedroom." She led him to the king-sized bed, joking, "We'll draw straws this time."

He managed a small smile, through his pain. "I think I can share."

Siobhan moved to his side and proceeded to tape the injured ribs. She shifted her stance so she stood in front of him. She tried to discern if there was any other damaged inflicted upon him. As she ran her hands through his hair, looking for bumps, she felt Jack's hands on her waist. Siobhan looked down to see him staring at her.

"What?"

"Thank you. I'm not used to relying on others. Even when I know I should."

Siobhan sat next to him, taking his hand. "You don't have to be alone anymore. I want you to know how much you've come to mean to me.

"Today, when I left you behind, with Katya, I felt . . . empty. Then terrified. The only thought that kept me going was that by getting to Sydney and Nadia there would be a chance to get you back.

"When I saw you in that chair, alive, my heart . . . Jack there aren't any words to describe how I was feeling. I'm sorry," she wiped away a tear that had leaked from her eye.

"Don't cry," he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "And don't be sorry. There aren't many people who care that much about what happens to me."

Jack pulled her into an awkward embrace, letting her cry on his bare shoulder. He couldn't understand why she was quite so upset. They all had made it out; his injuries not withstanding, they were in good shape. "Siobhan," he said gently, "you don't need to . . . I'm fine. Don't waste your tears."

She stopped crying abruptly and when Jack looked at her, she appeared furious. "Do _not_ pull any self-loathing crap with me Jack Bristow! You need to raise your expectations of the people around you and yourself. You deserve to have people care about you! And they do! _I_ do!"

"I don't know what to say, Siobhan."

"You don't need to say anything." Siobhan placed a hand on his stubble-roughened cheek when he wouldn't meet her gaze. "You need to accept the fact that you _are_ worthy of love, despite what you may think." And with that proclamation, she kissed him, long and hard.

He moaned when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, but didn't touch her. He was too afraid of a repeat performance of Beirut. That didn't stop her from touching him, however. Siobhan's hands were everywhere; in his hair, skimming down his back, caressing his chest.

Jack finally pulled away, out of breath and knowing he wasn't far from tossing her back on the bed and taking her, despite his injuries.

"Jack . . . I . . ."

"It's not that I don't want to . . . make love with you, Siobhan. I do! Very much so. But . . . I'm having trouble breathing normally . . . And I'm not sure I'm ready."

"I understand, sweetheart. That's not to say that I'm not disappointed, but I understand. I suppose we should be back in the State the first time anyway, and not with your daughter in the next room. I just wanted you to know how much I want you."

Jack's ears turned red. Siobhan was the first woman who would flirt openly with him that he would respond to.

"Why, are you blushing, Agent Bristow?" she teased, her Southern accent becoming more pronounced.

He laughed out loud, something he hadn't done in years. Siobhan was stunned; she'd never heard him laugh before. A small chuckle, a sarcastic snigger, yes, but not a full-blown laugh. "_What a beautiful sound_," she thought.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he asked.

"Probably the same as you do to me."

He looked at her, desire in his eyes and was overcome. "Thank you for coming into my life. I haven't felt this way . . . in a long time." Jack kissed her tenderly on the lips. His eyes caught sight of the digital clock on the nightstand. "We really should get to bed, Siobhan. It's two in the morning."

"Damn!"

They lay down on the bed, carefully maneuvering around Jack's ribs. At last they were spooned together; Jack behind Siobhan, his arms around her, pulling her close against his body. Siobhan fell asleep rather quickly in his comforting embrace. But before she did, she thought she heard Jack whisper, "I think I love you."


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, a persistent pounding woke Jack. He opened his eyes to see Siobhan staring back at him, still wrapped in his arms. He gave her a tentative smile; well aware of his admission he'd made as they'd drifted off to sleep but unsure if she'd heard it.

"Morning," she said, placing light kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Morning," he returned the gesture, just as Sydney opened the door.

"Dad? Didn't you hear . . . me . . . knocking? Shit!"

Jack was mortified. "Sydney, it's not what you think. Siobhan was just . . . we were . . . Help me out please?" he looked pleadingly at Siobhan.

"Dad, I don't need to know. You're both adults and I'll just let you get dressed, since the chopper will be here within the hour." And with that, Sydney withdrew.

"Thanks for backing up, Siobhan. Now Sydney thinks we . . ." he gestured between them, not finishing the sentence.

"Slept together? Made love? Is that a bad thing? And so what if we did?!"

Jack pulled away, his aching ribs protesting. He knew Sydney liked Siobhan; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he was dangerously close to losing his heart to this remarkable woman and it scared him. Petrified him.

"Are you ashamed of me? Of our relationship?" Siobhan asked quietly. She laid a hand on his back, wanting to reconnect physically.

"Of course not!" He was offended that she could think that of him. Then again, he hadn't been the most romantic of suitors.

"Do you want our relationship to work?"

"Yes."

"Then look at me." When he had turned to face her, she continued, "Then don't hide it. Don't be afraid to show your feelings around other people, all right?"

"I'm trying. It's just a little strange having your adult daughter walk in on you with a woman in your bed. Even if we didn't do anything."

"Not for lack of desire!"

"Don't get me started. Besides, we should really get ourselves ready. God, I'm not looking forward to this helicopter ride," he added under his breath.

"I'll make it worth your while!" Siobhan heard the comment.

"Oh, yeah?" Jack grimaced as he pulled on a fresh shirt. "How's that?"

"After we're debriefed and you see a doctor, I'm coming home with you. And I'm staying to take care of you until you're completely healed. No arguments."

Jack lifted his arms in mock surrender, "Yes, ma'am. Should we join the girls?"

Out in the great room, Sydney was sitting with Nadia. "I can't believe I walked in on my dad and Siobhan. No one should have to see their parent in bed!"

"It can't be that bad! Besides he said nothing happened, right?"

"They were in the same bed! Presumably all night! What do you think they were doing?!"

"Why are you so upset?" asked Nadia. "You like Siobhan!"

"I know. It's just really weird to think of my dad like that. I'm happy for him, really."

Sydney glanced up to see Jack and Siobhan in the doorway. Jack had an odd smile on his face and the tips of his ears were red. Siobhan had her hand clasped in his.

"Sydney, I stayed in your father's room last night to take care of him."

"What do you mean? Dad? What did Katya do to you?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart, really . . ."

"Jack . . ."

"I've got a couple of broken ribs," he admitted, finally.

"Dad!"

"Jack!"

Sydney and Nadia spoke at the same time, then laughed. Jack wore a befuddled expression as the two young women expressed their concern.

"See, Jack? I told you people care about you," Siobhan whispered to him.

"Are you ok, Dad?"

"Yes. Siobhan took good care of me."

Nadia peeked at Sydney and they both laughed again. Even Siobhan was grinning.

"Did I say something funny?" Jack was unaware of the double entendre he'd made.

"I'll explain later," Sydney said, still smiling.

The sound of a helicopter filled the air. The little group made its way outside, relieved to be on its way home.

Back in L.A., the team briefed Dixon, informing him of Katya Derevko's apparent involvement with Hamass.

"So are we positive that there's a connection? Or is it possible that she has her own agenda?" Dixon questioned.

"It's unclear at this point," Jack said.

"What we are clear about is that Katya is after both Jack and Sydney," Siobhan interjected.

"Why exactly is that?" It was the one thing Sydney was confused about.

Jack exchanged glances with both Dixon and Siobhan. "Ok, people. Let's give them the room," Dixon led the way out.

"Dad? What's going on here?"

"Sweetheart, I didn't want to have to tell you this . . ." he cleared his throat. "Your mother's assassination . . . I gave the FBI the authorization."

Sydney stared at him in a stunned silence. When she'd gathered her wits, all she could say was, "You did what?!"

"I issued the shoot to kill order."

Sydney didn't think, she only reacted. She slapped Jack full across the face. "How could you? No, don't even! There's nothing you could say to make this right! Stay the hell away from me!" Sydney stormed from the room, oblivious to the curious stares of the many agents who had watched the exchange through the glass walls of the briefing room.

Siobhan went after her, understanding the devastation Sydney must have been feeling. She finally caught up with her in the elevator. "Sydney . . ."

"How could he? She was my _mother_!" she raged, tears streaming down her face.

"I know you're angry . . ."

"How could you know _what_ I'm feeling? You don't know what he did!" The look on Siobhan's face gave her away. "You _knew_? And you didn't tell me? You still want to be with him? You make me _sick_! _Both_ of you!"

Siobhan hit the emergency stop. "Now you wait one minute, young lady! Did you even ask your father _why_ he issued the order? From the look on your face, I can see that you didn't.

"Jack loves you, so much! And time and again, he tries to protect and all you can do is spit in his face! Did you ever think about how hard it must have been for _him_ to issue that order?

"Irina was your mother, yes. But she was also the woman your father was in love with for _ten years_! Did you _ever_ think about what her betrayal did to him? Jack _isn't_ a cruel man, he only hides his emotions because he's afraid of being hurt again."

"Why did he do it?" Sydney asked.

"You need to talk to him. You also need to stop jumping to conclusions about him. Why don't we go back up so you can . . ."

"I'm not ready. I need to be by myself, to think. Could you tell him . . . I'll call in a couple of days."

Siobhan nodded and hit the emergency stop button again. She rode with Sydney to the parking garage and then went back up the rotunda to find Jack. He wasn't in the briefing room where she'd left him, nor was he in his own office. Out of desperation, she cornered Marshall.

"Where's Jack?"

"Mr. Bristow? Well, he uh, after Sydney . . . you know, well, he just got up and left."

"Did he tell anybody where he was going?"

"He didn't say anything to anyone."

"Damn it!" Siobhan took off.

"You're welcome," Marshall called after her.

Siobhan strode into Dixon's office without knocking. "I need Jack's home address and directions to get there."

"Excuse me?"

"Please! I think he's probably in a pretty dark place right now. You _know_ Sydney didn't take the news well. I need to be with him."

"Alright," he gave in after he'd thought a moment. "But you didn't get this from me."


	12. Chapter 12

It was close to seven before Siobhan finally got to Jack's house. There weren't any lights on, but there was smoke coming from the chimney. She went to the front door, expecting to have to pick the lock, and found it open.

She went through the door calling, "Jack? It's me. Where are you?"

He didn't answer, so she began looking into each room, finally catching his profile in the glow from the firelight. She sat next to him on the couch in the den, waiting for some sort of inspiration to hit.

Siobhan looked at him, the soft light highlighting the grey in his hair and she was again struck by his handsomeness. Then she noticed the wetness on his cheek.

"Oh, Jack," she knelt down in front of him. "Jack . . ."

"I just wanted to protect her."

"I know," she took his hands, "but Jack, she's a grown woman. You need to start trusting her more."

"I _do_! I do trust her. She's been the _only_ one in these last few years!"

"I understand, but you both need to communicate better. Don't you think that if you'd explained the situation to Sydney that she would've understood? That this wouldn't have happened?"

"I didn't want her to know how little value her _mother_," he almost choked on the word, "placed on her and her sister's lives. No child should have to endure that!"

"Jack, I know that you didn't do this out of malice, on the contrary, I know it was out of pure love for your daughter. When Sydney calls . . ."

"What?"

"I talked to her after she stormed out on you. I think I made some headway with her. She said she wanted some more time to think, but she also said she would call you."

"She did?"

The tone of hope in Jack's voice made Siobhan all too aware of how badly Sydney could hurt him. "Yes, she did. She loves you; I think she just needs to understand your motivations."

He sighed and turned away. Siobhan got up and sat on the couch next to him. When he didn't look up, she put an arm around his shoulders, gently drawing his head into her lap, mindful of his ribs. She ran her fingers through his hair, not saying anything, only wanting to give comfort.

As he relaxed into her, Siobhan lightly stroked her hand down his side. When she reached the edge of his shirt, she slipped her hand underneath, touching the bandages she'd applied.

"How are your ribs?"

"Mmm," he uttered, noncommittally.

"That doesn't help. And since you didn't go to the hospital, you have to deal with me. Now, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is your pain?"

"Seven."

"Did you take any ibuprofen?"

"Yeah."

"Did it help?" It was like pulling teeth, trying to get information from him.

"Yes. The pain _was_ at a nine."

"Ok. Try to concentrate on my hands. Don't think about the pain."

Siobhan's hands danced across his body, one massaging his scalp, the other softly caressing his abdomen and chest. He sighed contentedly and, without realizing it, pressed himself closer.

She had another revelation: Though he'd never admit it, Jack Bristow craved the simple touch of another human being. It occurred to her that he'd denied himself, probably not wanting to be as vulnerable as he'd been with Irina. Despite that, he was here with her. And Siobhan was almost positive that he'd admitted he loved her, just twenty-four hours ago. The question now was whether to call him on it.

As his breathing grew deeper and more even, Siobhan rested her hand above his heart. Her other hand still entwined in his hair, she leaned over and placed a light kiss on Jack's temple, whispering, "I think I love you, too."

Early the next morning, Jack awoke in Siobhan's lap with the feeling that something significant had occurred. Searching his memory, he finally realized what Siobhan had whispered to him. She'd echoed his words from the safehouse.

Slowly sitting up, he studied her; her head leaned against the back of the couch, feet on the floor. "_There's no way she's comfortable_," he thought. Gingerly, he stood, then gently picked up Siobhan, intent on carrying her to his bedroom on the second floor. Just as he got to the bottom of the stairs, she began to wake up.

"Jack? What are you doing? Your ribs!"

"I'm fine. We're going to my room so we both can be comfortable for the rest of the night."

Once they reached his room, he set her down and readied the bed. After Siobhan got situated, Jack slid in next to her. He pressed himself close saying, "We need to talk."

"I know," she replied, searching his eyes. "But it'll keep til morning." Siobhan kissed him long and hard.

Jack responded in kind, his tongue probing for entrance. "Good night."

He closed his eyes then opened them again when he felt Siobhan opening the buttons on his shirt. She moved away, stripped off her own shirt, and, to his amazement, her bra. She wiggled back and tugged at his shirt, again.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I want to feel your skin on mine, that's all. Now get your shirt off!" she smiled.

He obliged, wishing his broken ribs weren't preventing him from making love to her. He didn't dare touch her; he was already aroused beyond belief. But she took his hand placed it on her left breast, above her heart; he felt it beating rapidly.

"Do you feel that?" Jack nodded. "You do that to me. Every time I see you. My heart is yours, Jack. Be careful with it."

He nodded again, stifling a yawn. Siobhan snuggled closer and it wasn't long before he was lulled to sleep by steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath his fingers.

When next they woke, sun was streaming through the windows. Jack looked at Siobhan and smiled. As if she sensed him, she opened her eyes studying his expression.

"What are you smiling at?"

"You. You're beautiful."

She blushed at the first real compliment he'd given her. Then she teased him, "You must like the bed head look."

He continued smiling, brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and replied, seriously, "I like _you_."

Siobhan took a deep breath. "I heard you. The other night in the safehouse. I was almost asleep so I thought maybe I'd imagined it. But I didn't did I?"

"No," his expression was completely serious now. "I'm not at this sort of thing. I . . ."

"Jack, if you're not ready . . ."

"No! I want you to know how much you mean to me. I just never thought it could happen to me again. I love you."

"I love you, too. So much!"

They kissed hungrily, only stopping when the shrill ring of the phone interrupted them.

"Shit!"

"Damn it!"

Jack sat up slowly and reached for the phone. "Hello? Dixon, yes. Mmm hmm. We'll be in as soon as we can." He hung up and turned to Siobhan. "May I ask why Marcus knew you were here?"

"I needed to get your address and he was the only one who could give it to me."

"Wonderful. Now my boss knows who I'm spending my nights with."

"Give it up, Jack. Dixon is your friend. He was just as worried as I was when you pulled your disappearing act yesterday.

"So why are we going back to JTF?"

"Apparently your analysis of Hamass has turned up and interesting correlation between his movements and Katya Derevko's."

"What was the connection?"

"Dixon wouldn't say over the phone. He just wanted the team in for a briefing."

As they talked, they dressed quickly, stealing glances and touches. Jack wasn't used to being able to touch someone so freely; he reveled in such a simple thing.

"I can't go in wearing the same clothes as yesterday," commented Siobhan. "We'll have to stop at my house so I can change."

Jack sat uncomfortably on Siobhan's couch, waiting for her to be ready. He didn't want her to know, but his rubs were aching again. He'd already had about 1000 mg of ibuprofen and it had barely touched the pain.

He tried to compose himself as he heard her come down the hall. "Ready?" she asked. She looked at him closely when he nodded. "Are you all right, Jack?"

"It's just my ribs. The uh, ibuprofen hasn't kicked in, yet," he lied through his teeth. "Let get this over with, shall we?"


	13. Chapter 13

In the briefing room, Dixon came straight to the point. "Derevko's movements directly mirror Hamass'. Anywhere that he has been, she shows up within a day or two.

"Agent Porter's analysis of Hamass shows him to be a show off, but in need of acknowledgement. He appears to be seeking some kind of praise. At this point we assume he's getting it from Katya Derevko. Why it matters to her is anybody's guess."

Under the table, Jack reached for Siobhan's hand, gripping it tightly when he located it. She looked over at him, concerned. Her concern grew when she saw how pale he was.

"I want you all to work on finding the exact connection between Katya Derevko and Yusef Hamass," continued Dixon. "Is she humoring his need to feel important or is it something more? Get to work people."

Jack tried to stand, but collapsed, gasping for breath. As the meeting had worn on, he'd felt an increasing pressure in his chest and side. He wasn't completely sure, but he thought his lung had collapsed.

"Jack!"

"Dad!"

The two women were immediately at his side.

"Call for the paramedics!" Dixon ordered Vaughn.

"Dad, what's wrong? Can you talk?"

"Can't . . . breathe . . ." he managed to gasp out.

"Damn it! Why didn't you say something earlier? You should be in a hospital, Jack!" Siobhan was as angry as she'd ever been, even as tears filled her eyes. He was risking his health over Katya Derevko's whereabouts. "Where the _hell_ is the ambulance?"

As if on cue the JTF paramedics could be seen streaming through the rotunda. When they got to Jack, they pushed the two hovering women out of the way.

Vaguely, Jack could hear them saying things like: "Good breath sounds on the right, erratic heartbeat. Let's get him hooked up to some oxygen and load him on the truck."

"We're going with you," insisted Siobhan, speaking for herself and Sydney.

"I've only got room for one of you."

They exchanged a quick look, then Sydney said, "You go. I'll meet you there."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Where are you taking him?"

"Saint Mary's. All the personnel have been cleared by the CIA."

"I'll be right behind."

"Sydney . . ."

Her father's voice startled her. "Yeah, Dad?" She bent over to hear him better and took his hand.

"Love you."

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she replied, "I love you, too, Dad."

In the ambulance, Jack slipped in and out of consciousness. But he was always aware of Siobhan's hand in his, gently rubbing her thumb over the top of his hand.

The ER doctors were able to assess Jack's situation without hesitation. His broken ribs, though harmless enough at first, had punctured his lung.

"He's got tension pneumothorax," the doctor explained to Sydney and Siobhan. "That means that air is being expelled into his chest cavity and there's nowhere for it to go. We need to insert a chest tube to help the lung re-inflate and give the air someplace to go." He turned to Sydney, "You're listed as his next-of-kin. His health care proxy says that you're in charge of his medical care, should he become incapacitated. At this point he's unconscious and breathing with the help of an oxygen mask."

"Please, do whatever you need to do to help him," Sydney ordered him. She was thrown by her father's faith in her. Whatever had possessed him to put her in charge of his health?

"All right. I'll be back to speak with you when the procedure is done. Nurse, would you mind taking these ladies to the waiting area?"

"No!" they cried in unison.

"We're staying here until we can see him," Sydney said, firmly.

"It's not a pretty sight," he warned.

"We'll be fine," Siobhan assured him.

The doctor shook his head, then went back in to tend to Jack. Sydney grabbed Siobhan's hand as they watched the procedure. Siobhan forced herself not to look away. She had performed the procedure herself when she was in med school, but it was different watching someone else do it, especially to somebody she loved.

"Oh, God!" Siobhan heard Sydney mutter as she squeezed her hand even tighter.

Finally, the tube was in and Doctor Wilson came out. "We're going to get him cleaned up and into a private room. Then you can see him. Let's go somewhere private for a moment."

He escorted them to a waiting area. "I need to ask a few questions about how this happened. I assume some sort of blunt trauma?"

"Yes. Jack was taken hostage and beaten pretty badly," answered Siobhan.

"Any weapons used?"

"It's possible. He was held for several hours."

"When exactly did this happen?" Wilson was confused by the state of Bristow's other injuries; all were healing as they should.

"It's been almost 48 hours," Sydney answered this time.

"Has he been engaging in any unusual activities? Anything that he shouldn't have been doing? I'm only asking because if his lung was going to collapse, it should have done so before now."

Sydney shook her head as Siobhan searched her memory. Realization dawned and her face fell.

"What, Siobhan?"

"He carried me upstairs to his bedroom," she replied, softly.

"Why? No, _don't_ answer that. Why didn't you stop him?"

"I'm going to see if Agent Bristow's room is ready. You've been very helpful," interjected Dr. Wilson.

They nodded and Siobhan answered Sydney. "We fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up, your father had gotten the brilliant idea to carry me to his bedroom. Nothing happened, Sydney," she added when she saw the blush that had spread across the younger woman's face.

"It's none of my business, I know. I just have a hard time thinking about Dad like that." She paused then said, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Siobhan smiled and nodded, "Yes. I would have chosen different circumstances to tell you, but yes. I love your father, so much."

"Has he told you how he feels?"

"Yes."

"Thank God! I thought he'd never get up the courage."

"Did he say something to you?"

"No, not in so many words. But I know my father. He hasn't let anyone this close since . . . probably my mother. And he's seemed different somehow. Definitely happier, more relaxed. You've done that.

"When he's better I'm going to talk to him. About what happened with my . . . with Irina. I thought about what you said in the elevator. You were right."

"Sydney, I talked to Jack last night. He's not blameless. I think he realizes that he needs to treat you as an adult, not the six-year-old little girl who had her parents taken away. But know that his actions have always been out of a deep love for you."

A nurse stepped into the room; "I can take you to Mr. Bristow's room now." As they walked the nurse explained Jack's condition, "He's been sedated to help with the pain and to let him sleep. In the morning we'll start tapering off the morphine. If everything goes well, he should be home by the end of the week."

When they reached Jack's room, Siobhan hovered in the doorway, letting Sydney have time with him. Sydney had never seen her frail, nasal canula, IV fluids and morphine. She sat next to the bed and carefully took his hand.

"Daddy," her voice broke.

"Jack opened his eyes, "Hey, honey."

"I'm sorry I slapped you," she burst out, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"It's alright. Don't cry, sweetheart." He reached up to wipe away the tears. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," she sniffed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I love you, too."

"We can talk more tomorrow, ok sweetheart? I'm really tired," his eyes flicked to the doorway and offered Siobhan a small smile.

"It's the morphine, Dad. It's for the pain, but it'll help you sleep, too."

"Morphine?" he mumbled, sleepily. "I hate morphine . . . bad dreams." His eyes closed then and his breathing evened out.

Sydney turned to Siobhan; "I hate seeing him like this!"

Siobhan walked over and embraced the younger woman. "I know. But he'll be fine. They'll be able to take the tube out by morning. He's a strong man, Sydney."

"I know that. I just . . . I haven't had to see him looking . . . vulnerable very often. I think the last time was when we realized Mom wasn't dead."

"What happened?" Siobhan encouraged her to continue, wanting more insight into Jack's psyche.

"We were arguing in his car. I wanted to find her and Dad was trying to convince me that it was a bad idea. I remember the exact words he used because I'd never seen him so angry or so hurt: 'What could she ever say that would satisfy you?' In retrospect he was probably right. And he wasn't just talking about me. I know now how much he was hurt by her deception.

"I'm going to get some coffee. You want some?"  
Sydney's question startled Siobhan. She was thinking about how much hell Irina had put Jack through. "Ah, no. I think I'm going to sit with Jack for awhile."

"'Kay. I'll be back in a bit."

Siobhan dragged a chair over to Jack's bed. "Stubborn man!" she whispered as she took his hand. "You should have told me. I should have made come here last night."

She sighed and leaned back, still holding his hand. She stared at the heart monitor, comforted by its steady rhythm, her eyes growing heavy. "Just for a couple of minutes," she muttered to herself.


	14. Chapter 14

When Siobhan woke in the early hours of dawn, a blanket had been draped over her and she could see Sydney slumped over in her own chair on the other side of Jack's bed. At first she thought it was one of the machines that had awakened her. Then she looked over at Jack. 

His face was a mixture of pain and anger. "No, DON'T!" He tried to put out his hands, as if to defend himself.

Sydney was awake now, as well. "What's wrong?"

"I think he's having a reaction to the morphine. Remember he said he doesn't like morphine? That he has bad dreams?"

Sydney nodded, not sure what Siobhan was getting at.

"Morphine is an opiate. Marijuana is derived from the same plant; some patients can have hallucinations while on it. Often, they're not pleasant; I think your father must have had this reaction before."

"Shouldn't we wake him?" Sydney was concerned. Jack's anxiety seemed to be increasing.

"Irina . . . NO . . . Sorry, Sydney . . ."

"We just need to be very gentle. Jack? It's Siobhan. Can you hear me?"

"Siobhan?" Jack's face relaxed somewhat.

"Yes, and Sydney's here, too."

"Sydney?" he seemed to be distressed. "Is she ok? Not hurt?"

"Yes, Dad. I'm fine."

"We're both fine, Jack. I want you to wake up, all right? Open your eyes for me."

"I'll do anything for you."

"You better be careful what you say, sweetheart. I may just hold you to it," Siobhan teased as she gazed into Jack's now open but hazy eyes.

Sydney watched the exchange and was slightly discomfited at the private moment she was witnessing. She was truly happy for both of them, especially her father, who had had so much grief in his life. "I'm going to leave you two alone."

Neither one answered as she slipped out to see the doctor about lowering Jack's morphine level.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked.

"I was going to ask you the same thing. You were pretty agitated; do you want to talk about it?"

He turned away. "This is why I hate morphine. All I saw was Irina killing Sydney. Over and over. And I couldn't stop her."

"But you did stop her. And Sydney is just fine. You've got to let these ghosts go. You can't let them haunt you forever."

He nodded; her very presence seemed to act as a balm between himself and his past. "I'm glad you're here."

"Where else would I be?" She saw the doubt in his eyes and before he could answer said, "I love you. And I promise to be here for you, whenever you need me."

Doctor Wilson came in saying, "Looks like we can remove the chest tube. Your daughter says you've been having a little trouble with the morphine, though. I'm going to lower the dosage, but I don't want to take you off it completely. The after-effects of a chest tube removal can be quite painful."

"Give me something else!" demanded Jack.

"Mr. Bristow, I know that morphine can be tricky, but as I said . . ."

"I don't care about the pain. I don't want these hallucinations. Give me another drug!"

"I can give you any number of other drugs, but they simply won't give you as much relief."

"Surely, Dr. Wilson, there's got to be something?" Siobhan interrupted. "What about Demerol, Fentinol, Vicadin?"

Doctor Wilson didn't look happy at this interference but replied, "I suppose we can try the Demerol."

"Thank you."

Jack was released from the hospital at the end of the week, much to the relief of the staff. Suffice it to say that he was far from the ideal patient.

Sydney picked him up, ignoring his protests and questions about where they were going. They had finally talked about Irina's death and Jack's part in it. She understood now why he hadn't involved her in his decision. While she still wasn't pleased, she had forgiven him.

Jack was becoming more and more suspicious as Sydney navigated the streets of a vaguely familiar cul-de-sac. "No, Sydney. I'm _not_ going to be babysat. I can take care of myself."

"It's me or Siobhan, Dad. I'm pretty sure you'd prefer Siobhan's fussing to mine." She laughed at his expression, partly horrified, partly relieved.

"I don't suppose I have any say in this?"

"Nope. Here we are," she said, cheerfully as they pulled in the driveway. "I've already brought some clothes over for you, so you're all set for a relaxing stay."  
He rolled his eyes, "You coming in?"

"No. Just tell Siobhan I said 'hi.' And I'll call to see how you're going. Love you, Dad," she kissed his cheek.

"Love you, too, honey. Thanks for the ride."

Siobhan greeted him at the door, waving to Sydney as she pulled away.

"Honey, I'm home," he said.

She laughed at his self-deprecating humor. "Come on, Jack. Let me show you around. It's not much, but you'll have your own room."

Jack thought he hid his disappointment well, but Siobhan read him easily. "If I spend one more night in a bed with you when I can't touch you, I'll go crazy. It'll be hard enough with you in the next room," she admitted.

"As soon as I'm healed. I promise . . . It'll be a night you won't forget. But I think I'll heal quicker if you'll watch over me all night," he whispered in her ear.

A delighted smile spread across her face, "Are you flirting with me?"

He stepped away, a little shy, "What if I was?"

"I like it. Keep it up and you _might_ convince me to let you in my bed." She led him to the living room, furnished in a country style, as was the kitchen they'd passed on their way. His big hand engulfed hers, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles as they continued touring her small home. "Bathroom, my bedroom, your bedroom," she concluded.

"I though sleeping arrangements were still under negotiation," he stepped closer, deliberately invading her space.

"You haven't given me any reason to change . . . ahh," she gasped as Jack placed a kissed on her neck, right where it met her shoulder. Simultaneously, he covered her breast with his free hand, rubbing her nipple lightly.

"How about this? Do you remember what it felt like to lay next to each other? Skin on skin? I thought I would explode!"

"That would be the problem; I don't think I can control myself," she smiled.

He removed his hand and said seriously, "What about the fact that I haven't slept as well as when you're in my arms in . . . in years. And you know that a good night's sleep is essential to my recovery."

"You don't play fair, Jack," she deflated. "You've got to promise me you won't rush anything. I want you when you're well and not before!"

"I promise." He pressed his lips to hers, sealing the deal.


	15. Chapter 15

Four days later, both Jack and Siobhan were having trouble keeping up their ends of the bargain. Especially in light of the fact that she was changing the bandages on the wound from the chest tube. Every look, every touch was filled with an almost electric feeling.

Sydney called every day to check on Jack and Siobhan. She'd even stopped over once and stayed for dinner. She'd gotten the distinct impression that both were frustrated by Jack's injuries.

Late Wednesday afternoon, Siobhan was lying on the couch with her feet in Jack's lap, getting a massage. There was an easy, domestic feel to the atmosphere, something Jack hadn't had in years. The TV was tuned to _Dr. Phil_, only because Siobhan got a kick out of him; Jack was doing his best to ignore the man's repetition of the phrase, "How's that workin' for ya?" The phone rang and Jack grabbed it, eager for the distraction.

"Porter residence. Jack Bristow speaking."

"Jack, it's Dixon."

"What can I do for you?"

"Have you seen Sydney today? Is she there by any chance?"

"No. What's going on, Marcus?" Jack sat up abruptly, Siobhan's feet forgotten.

"I'm not sure, Jack."

"What are you sure of?" Jack's voice had gone cold and his face was hard.

"Sydney didn't show up for work this morning. Vaughn said she was running late and had an informant she had to meet before coming in.

"She still wasn't here at noon, so we sent out a team to her meeting place. There was no sign of a struggle so we made contact with the informant she was supposed to meet.

"He said she never showed. Left him a message saying she'd have to change the time and would get back to him.

"That's all we know right now. We wanted to make sure she wasn't with you. Which she isn't. We're sending out more feelers. Vaughn and Weiss are pursuing an angle as are Nadia and Marshall."

"We're coming in . . ."

"Jack, no, we're on this."

"I _will_ help find my daughter. This isn't a negotiation," Jack hung up the phone. "We're going into JTF. I'll explain in the car."

The rotunda was buzzing with activity as Jack and Siobhan made their way to Dixon's office. She was concerned for him, both emotionally and physically. He had turned back into 'Agent Bristow'; the man who didn't have time to be afraid, the man who only wanted answers.

They reached Dixon's office, to see the task force members gathered, alarming Jack far more than he cared to admit.

"What in the hell is going on?" he demanded of Marcus.

"Sydney's been taken by Katya Derevko. She's given us one week to fulfill her list of demands. If we don't, she'll kill Sydney."

Sydney opened her eyes and tried to orient herself to her surroundings. The room was pitch black and she was strapped to a chair; handcuffs limited her ranged of motion in both her arms and legs. Instead of struggling, she used her training to assess the situation. By the dampness in the air and lack of light, she assumed she was in the basement of the building.

She only vaguely recalled the events of the past 24 hours. Sydney remembered a fuzzy outline, the face familiar, hinting at the edges of memory. Katya! Her aunt had done this. But why? "_What do I have that she wants_?" Sydney pondered.

The door creaked open, letting in a stream of light, blinding Sydney temporarily. "Good. You're awake." There was no mistaking her aunt's voice.

"What do you want, Katya?" she got straight to the point.

"You are but a means to an end. Your father killed my sister, your mother. He must pay for this foolish mistake."

"Are you kidding? My mother was willing to sacrifice Nadia and me to this insane Rambaldi prophesy. Dad did the world, and me, a favor by giving the FBI authorization to terminate her."

"What and Jack and all the other dilettantes don't comprehend is how the prophesy will change everything." Katya had a slightly wild look in her eyes.

"Then why do you need all these weapons? Satellite images? Why align yourself with Hamass? What does all this have to do with Rambaldi?" Sydney tried to stay calm, but she wanted answers.

"Silly girl. Every one of us, those in the Magnificent Order of Rambaldi, all that we do is in service of the prophesy.

'"I see no reason to keep you in suspense. There are certain individuals and items that we need to obtain in order complete tasks that have lain out by Rambaldi himself. This is why, while we wait for Jack to try to rescue you, you will give the location of the instructions for the weapon you stole."

"Go to hell."

"This is hell, Sydney. At least it will be for you, if you don't cooperate. I leave you to think it over."

"What is being done to find my daughter?" Jack tried to stay calm. He should have known that Katya would take advantage of his incapacitation. Now she could take her revenge; he shouldn't have allowed himself to become complacent.

"We've been re-interviewing Hamass' operatives. Two of them gave us information about a meet that's supposed to happen three days from now in Liverpool. Apparently Hamass is meeting with someone who is willing to trade commodities."

"Fine. Let's get this man and I'll take his place at the meet."

"Unless you'd like to wear a dress, somebody else will have to go in, Mr. Bristow. Not that you wouldn't look good in a dress . . . I mean if you . . . really wanted . . . to . . ." Marshall stuttered.

He looked taken aback until Vaughn explained, "Olivia Reed, she's a freelancer, been around for a long time. She's got something that Hamass needs. They're meeting in a nightclub that she owns."

"What are our options?"

"Siobhan will take Reed's place. We'll have a team in position both in- and outside the building," Dixon explained.

"I want to be on that team," Jack reiterated.

"Of course. Do you sing?"


	16. Chapter 16

"I feel ridiculous," Jack said three days later. He was to be the entertainment at the nightclub; it was a replica of a 1940's era club and he had to dress the part. The tux, waistcoat, and tails weren't exactly his style.

"But you look so handsome," Siobhan responded into the comm. She sighed when he didn't answer, keeping her eyes peeled for her target.

Jack had been distant these last few days. Barely speaking to anyone, except about the mission. He only slept and ate when some one reminded him. And Siobhan suspected that was because he knew he needed to keep his strength up if he wanted to be on the team.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention. I would like to introduce a new act: Mr. Johnathon Donahue, your entertainment this evening."

Before he stepped out on the stage he heard Siobhan in his ear again, "Break a leg, sweetheart." He took a deep breath, trying to ease the rapid tattoo of his heart. He hadn't sung, really sung since college; singing lullabies to Sydney didn't count.

At first the lights blinded him, but Jack searched out Siobhan, visibly relaxing when he found her. He gazed at her stunned by her appearance: a sapphire silk gown clung to her body, the color accentuating her eyes and hair. He leaned over to the piano player, "Do you know _The Way You Look Tonight_?" When the man nodded, he continued, "Let's start with that."

Looking out into the audience again, Jack caught Siobhan's eye. He took a deep breath and began, never breaking eye contact.

"_Some day, when I'm awfully low,_

_When the world is cold,_

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you . . ._

_And the way you look tonight._

_Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm_

_And your cheeks so soft,_

_There is nothing for me but to love you,_

_And the way you look tonight._

_With each word your tenderness grows,_

_Tearing my fear apart . . ._

_And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,_

_It touches my foolish heart._

_Lovely . . . never, ever change._

_Keep that breathless charm._

_Won't you please arrange it?_

_'Cause I love you . . . just the way you look tonight_

_Just the way you look tonight._"

Siobhan was so entranced by Jack's singing that she almost missed Hamass. "Would you buy me a drink, sir?"

"Only if you like a high ball," he responded with the correct phrase.

"Mr. Hamass, I believe I have something you need?"

"Indeed. You have it with you?"

"It's close by." Siobhan's gaze flicked over to Jack who'd started his next song, _Cheek to Cheek_.

"_Heaven, I'm in Heaven_

_And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak_

_And I seem to find the happiness I seek_

_When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek._"

"This was not part of the deal, Ms. Reed. If you don't have it here, now, then the deal is off."

Siobhan tore herself away from Jack's singing. "I want to see the money you promised."

"As I said, this is not the deal. And I grow tired of your games, woman. Now take me to the coil and I will let you live." Hamass grabbed Siobhan's arm and jerked her to her feet.

"Get your hands off me, you arrogant pig!" It was the wrong time to let her Irish temper get the better of her, but Siobhan didn't like being manhandled. She never saw the hand that slapped her, but she felt it. And she felt her arm being twisted behind her back. Vaguely, it registered that Jack could no longer be heard singing as Hamass tried to hustle her out of the club.

As soon as Jack saw Hamass lay his hands on Siobhan, he dropped his mic and jumped off the stage. He took less than a dozen steps before he reached the pair. He grabbed the man's shoulder, spun him around, and began laying into him. Short jabs and body shots made quick work of Hamass and he lost consciousness after just a few punches. That didn't stop Jack; he continued pummeling the Arab, wordlessly, until Siobhan reached out to him.

"Jack, _stop_! He's out cold, let the team take him into custody," she indicated Vaughn, Weiss, and Nadia rushing over.

When he looked at her, Siobhan was a little frightened by the intensity in his eyes. "He hit you," Jack growled.

"I'm fine. Let's get out of here." While she led him to the surveillance van, Hamass was handcuffed and taken to a caged vehicle.

Inside the van, Siobhan got out some hand sanitizer, wanting to clean the blood off Jack's hands. She soon realized that some of the blood was his. The knuckles on Jack's left hand were pretty banged up from the vicious beating he'd given Hamass.

Neither one said a word as she patched him up and the van started the long drive to Heathrow. Jack leaned his head back and closed his eyes, suddenly very tired.

"You have a lovely voice, Jack."

He opened his eyes at the compliment and stared at her, an amused expression on his face.

"The one frivolous thing I did in high school and college. A couple of my friends and I formed a band. Uncle Oliver was pissed."

"He didn't approve?"

"God no. We did a lot of covers, but we wrote a few of our own. This was the middle of the 60's, hippies and flower children. My uncle hated them and their music. We were just following the trend, performing what people liked.

"One night, after I'd come home from performing, Uncle Oliver pulled me aside and read me the riot act. Called me a pussy for singing about peace and love. Said a real man didn't sing, didn't play the piano. Real men shot guns and were in the army."

Siobhan was quiet for a moment before answering. His uncle's condemnation had hurt Jack far more than he was saying. "Did your mom or dad sing?"

He chuckled mirthlessly, "This is why I don't like psychologists."

"Yeah, but you like me," she moved closer to him. "So?"

"They both sang. Not professionally, mostly clubs on the weekends. But they were always singing around the house. That's the dominant memory I have of my childhood, before they died; music."

They were quiet for a long time, both lost in their thoughts. Jack assumed that Siobhan had fallen asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. So he was startled when she broke the silence 45 minutes later.

"Sing for me?"

"Here? Now?"

"Please, Jack?"

He hesitated, not sure if he could do it. Then it came to him. He started out softly, as he gained confidence so did his volume. It was an old Beach Boys song that he'd covered many times:

"_I may not always love you_

_But long as there are stars above you_

_You never need to doubt it_

_I'll make you so sure about it_

_God only know what I'd be without you_

_If you should ever leave me_

_Though life would still go on believe me_

_The world could show nothing to me_

_So what good would living do me?_

_God only knows what I'd be without you_

_God only knows what I'd be without you_

_If you should ever leave me_

_Though life would still go on believe me_

_The world could show nothing to me_

_So what good would living do me?_

_God only knows what I'd be without you_

_God only knows what I'd be without you_

_God only knows_"

When they reached the airport, none of the teams members made mention of the fact that they'd heard Jack's little solo when Siobhan's comm had been activated. They boarded the cargo plane, secured Hamass, and took of back to L.A.


	17. Chapter 17

It had been three days since her capture and Sydney was beginning to doubt whether or not her father would actually be coming for her. Her time in her basement cell had not been easy: Bread and water, let out of the chair only to use the bathroom. And the interrogations.

It alternated between physical torture and emotional blackmail. The beatings she could stand, but having Katya tell her, in detail, what she was planning on doing to Jack, Nadia, Vaughn, was at times almost too much to bear.

Katya broke into Sydney's thoughts, "It seems that Yusef has been captured. No doubt your father will be her soon. Hamass simply has no spine for this business.

"So you will want to give me any information you have on the whereabouts of any Rambaldi artifacts."

"Fuck you!" Sydney's temper finally got the better of her. Little food and light combine with torture tended to make her cranky.

"My goodness! Didn't Jack teach you not use foul language? I guess he wouldn't have, since he abandoned you after Irina was extracted. If you choose not to cooperate, I will make you regret it."

"You said it yourself, Katya. My father is coming for me. When he does, it will be _you_ with the regrets," Sydney threatened, knowing exactly where she'd gotten her temper.

"You've made your choice, then?"

"Yes."

"Mikhail, Sergei! Take her to the Terminal Room."

When Jack and Siobhan arrived at the Ops Center after a good night's sleep, they were greeted by an irate Dixon. "Hamass won't talk. He claims he knows nothing about Sydney's disappearance or Katya Derevko's whereabouts. Jack, I'd like you to question him."

Jack nodded and walked with him to the holding area. Before entering, Dixon stopped him, "No one will be watching, Jack. Get him to talk."

Jack wasn't unused to this type or order . . . from Arvin Sloane. Dixon was normally by the book. "_Except when it comes to those he loves_," mused Jack.

He stepped into the room and got a good look at what damage he'd done: Two black eyes, courtesy of what appeared to be a broken nose; cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his face and arms. Who knew what he'd inflicted on the rest of his body.

Jack didn't say anything, just waited for recognition to set in. When it did, he could see the fear in the other man's eyes. He waited a few more minutes before he spoke. "Mr. Hamass, I assure you that should you begin cooperating now, I will have no need to break _any more_," he emphasized, "of your bones. Persist with this _act_ that you know nothing, and you'll be lucky to leave this room alive."

Ten minutes later, Jack left the room with several pages of intel from Yusef Hamass. Included was the location of Katya Derevko's base of operation, the likely site of Sydney's captivity.

"Here you go, it's just the tip of the iceberg. But you should have no trouble getting him to cooperate any further."

"That didn't take long, Jack. What did you do?" Dixon was both impressed and disturbed.

"I merely made him aware that I held his life in my hands."

Dixon walked down the corridor to check on Hamass, while Jack rounded up the team to fill them in with what he'd gotten from the prisoner. As he passed Vaughn and Weiss, barking at them to get to the briefing room, he could have sworn he heard them snicker. Jack stopped and turned just in time to hear Weiss whisper something about singing.

"I wouldn't have pictured him the type. I mean Jack Bristow?! Big, bad CIA agent, with that voice? And who'd've thought he was such a romantic." Vaughn didn't catch the desperate hand gestures Weiss was making until it was too late. "What, Eric?"

"Mr. Vaughn, I would suggest that you refrain from discussing this topic any further."

Jack marched away, his face flushed, embarrassed as hell. "_Christ, how many people had heard him serenading Siobhan?_" He forced himself to focus on Sydney's situation as the briefing room filled.

"Sydney is being held in Simi Valley. Derevko apparently has a stronghold there that is fronting as an office for ABC Studios."

"Really? That's . . . wow! I love _Extreme Makeover_. Do you think they'd let me apply . . ."

"Not the time, Marshall. Look over the intel and come up with extraction ideas. I want mission specs to me within the hour." Jack left the briefing room alone and made his way to his office.

He met Dixon along the way. "There's not a scratch on him, I mean other than what was already there. What did you say?"

Siobhan had excused herself from the brainstorming session, worried about Jack. She overheard Dixon and breath a sigh on relief. She knew Jack would do anything to get Sydney back, but she didn't want to see the man from the club whose violence seemed uncontrollable.

"You simply need to know how to speak with these . . . people. The team is reviewing the information now. I'll be in my office if you need me."

Siobhan followed him in. He was sitting behind his desk, a stack of papers in one hand, the other rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Can I do anything?"

He looked up and shook his head, wearily. "I just want to find her and bring her home."

"I know. Me, too." She stood behind him, massaging his neck and shoulders. "Ribs holding up?"

"Yeah. They're fine. Mmm . . . that feels nice." He started to relax into her touch, closing his eyes. Jack opened them again when he felt wetness on his cheeks, startled at his reaction. He sat up, pulling away from Siobhan as he wiped his eyes. "I can't."

"Can't what, Jack? You're exhausted and frightened."

"I can't let my guard down again. Look at what happened when I did! Another Derevko has interfered with my daughter's life. I will _not_ allow some one else that I love . . . fall victim to my . . . weakness."

"This is _NOT_ your fault, Jack!" Siobhan spun his chair around so they were facing each other. "You cannot control the evil things that happen in this world! I am _so_ sorry that Katya has Sydney, but you can't be with her all the time; you won't always be able to protect her. Especially in our line of work!"

When Jack couldn't or wouldn't meet her gaze, she tilted his head up. "Jack, I know you're worried about Sydney. And I know you worry about me, but I won't let you beat yourself up over this. You are _not_ God! And this is _not_ your fault," she reiterated. "You need to let other people help you. You need to slow down and let us carry the burden with you. You won't be any good to anyone if you burn yourself out."

"I only wanted to keep you both safe. I love you and Sydney, so much."

Dixon appeared in the doorway just as Jack made this admission. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. "Jack, Siobhan, we've got a tentative plan. I'd like to review it with the team."

"We'll be right there," she answered. As he left, she turned to Jack, "Are we ok?"

"Yeah, we're fine," he said, with little emotion.

In the briefing room, Dixon outlined what they'd come up with. It was to be an out and out extraction, nothing fancy. There was to be both an air assault and ground assault. Several teams would surround the perimeter, while a helicopter landed on the roof. Jack, Siobhan, and Vaughn would go in, posing as a team ready to pitch their ideas for a new TV show. They would incapacitate the people interviewing them by using a high-pitched resonance emitter. Then they would have to break into the safe.

"Ok, so you're supposed to be hip, Hollywood types. And of course, you have to be in touch with your 'people,' so you gotta have cell phones. But these aren't ordinary cell phones; they've been modified with a little 'Marshall Magic,'" Marshall explained his gadget. "The cell phones, if placed right next to the safe's keypad, will decode the combination in less than ten seconds. Pretty cool, huh?"

No one answered, but they all rolled their eyes before turning their attention back to Dixon. "After you retrieve and enter the access codes into the computer for the security system, you must use the left thumbprint of Charles Fortinbras to verify. Once that's done, locate Sydney and let the extraction team know. From there, the main objective is to get Sydney out. Secondary is Derevko's capture, but only if it doesn't jeopardize the live of our team. Any questions?" he asked. "Good. Wheels up at 12 hundred hours."

As everyone filed out, Jack approached Dixon. "Why are we waiting almost an entire day, Marcus? I want my daughter back!"

"I know, Jack. But I'm telling you that this is the quickest we will be able to get everything in place. Now, you and Siobhan go home; let her take care of you, all right?"

Jack just stared at Dixon, before Siobhan took his arm and led him away.


	18. Chapter 18

"You can drop me off at my place," Jack said in his office.

"I'll stay at your place, then."

"No. I've inconvenienced you for long enough."

"Stop it, Jack. I know what you're trying to do and it won't work."

"And what exactly am I trying to do, _doctor_?"

"You're attempting to isolate yourself. And I _won't_ be shut out. I love you too much."

Jack didn't answer, not that she'd expected him to. Ever since Sydney's kidnapping, Siobhan had felt Jack slipping back behind his walls. There were flashes the man she'd come to know that would appear infrequently, but his distress over not being able to prevent Sydney's abduction was keeping him from allowing anyone to see how much he was suffering. He'd his pain behind a mask of seeming indifference and it scared her.

"Jack . . ." she tried again. She didn't really know what to say to get through to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, feeling it tense beneath her fingers.

He shook her hand off. "Don't touch me! Just . . . leave me alone.'

Siobhan circled him until they were face to face. "You've been alone too long. I'm not going to abandon you to your demons."

"You know _nothing_ about my demons! All you do is analyze and interfere and disrupt! I don't want you meddling my life anymore. Why don't you go back to the FBI and write a paper; I'm sure I'd make a wonderful case study!"

She slapped him, saying, "Damn you, Jack!"

He turned on his heel, leaving without saying anything in response. Siobhan stood there for a moment, a lone tear trickling down her face. She realized what she'd done and knew she couldn't let him leave. Deep down she knew he didn't feel that way, that it was another means to push her away. It didn't mean that it still didn't hurt.

She made it to the elevators just as the door closed on Jack's angry face. She ran down the stairs, hoping to catch him before he caught a taxi. She changed her mind as she reached her level of the parking garage. Instead she went for her car, determined to follow him home and rectify the situation.

It didn't take her long to get to his house. She pulled in his driveway just as the taxi pulled away. Siobhan turned off the engine and got out to confront Jack who was standing in the driveway staring at her incredulously.

"I don't want you here," he grated out. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to get drunk, not enough to pass out or give him a hangover, but enough to take the edge off. If Siobhan were there, it wouldn't happen.

"I honestly don't care whether you _want_ me here or not. You _need_ me, you need to talk!"

Jack abruptly walked away and went to the front door to let himself in. He didn't want to talk. If he talked, he would lose the tenuous grip he was maintaining on his emotions. Glancing down, he realized that the reason the key wouldn't turn was because his hands were shaking so badly.

Siobhan came up behind him and took the key in one hand and gently still his hands with her other. He pulled away saying fiercely, "I told you I don't want you here!"  
She ignored him and let herself into the house with Jack reluctantly following. He decided he didn't care if Siobhan was there or not. He needed something to dull his senses and alcohol had done the job quite nicely in the past.

He headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Scotch and a tumbler. Siobhan shadowed him, watching curiously, but not saying a word. Jack poured a glass and tossed it back; he poured another and drank it a little more slowly this time. When he poured his third glass, she stepped over to him, placing a hand on his forearm to still his movements.

"Don't do this," she said, quietly. "I'm sorry I slapped you. But you need to talk! Why won't you talk to me?"

"There's nothing to talk about." He gulped the drink, enjoying the burn down his throat. He went for the bottle again but before he could pour, Siobhan grabbed it.

"I will _not_ let you do this. You're not going to drown yourself in this _shit_! Jack, please!" she begged. "You don't need to go through this alone. Not when I'm here to listen!"

Jack turned on her then. "I don't _WANT_ to talk! Talking doesn't _help_! It _NEVER HELPS_!"

"It didn't bring back Laura! It only gave me a KGB spy for a wife! And it sure as hell won't bring me my daughter. Talking serves _NO_ purpose other than to show me that _EVERYONE_ I love gets hurt or taken away from me!"

With his final proclamation, Jack hurled his glass across the room, shattering it against the wall. He swept his arms across the counter, sending the toaster, an empty pitcher, and a dirty plate flying. He punched the wall next to the refrigerator, cracking the plaster, and stood there, shoulders heaving. Siobhan didn't flinch. Instead, she gathered him in her arms, feeling him shake with repressed anger and grief.

"Let it out, Jack. It's alright to cry."

He pulled away, holding her at shoulder length, still shaking. "Don't you see? Don't you understand what happens when I 'let go?'" He indicated the destruction of the kitchen.

"And so getting drunk it the better option? Destroying yourself rather than replaceable objects?"

"At least I won't have to _feel_ anything!" Jack tried to pull away completely but Siobhan had other ideas.

She moved closer, slowly stroking his arms, waiting for him to respond. Unconsciously he closed his eyes, the rhythm of his breathing matching the strokes of her hands.

"Jack, this isn't _all_ about Sydney. What is bothering you so much?"

He didn't answer at first. He was surprised that she had realized something he strove so hard to conceal. "I told you. People that I care about tend to get hurt. You've seen what can happen; Laur . . . Irina, Sydney, my parents. I don't want anything to happen to you. I think," his voice cracked, "I think we should stop seeing one another."

Of all the things he could have said, it was the one that could have surprised her. "I'm not leaving you. Especially now. You're not getting rid of me that easily. Don't you understand that I'm afraid for you, too? I don't want to see you get hurt, either."

Siobhan pulled his head toward her, placing her lips on his. She didn't break the kiss until she needed air. He placed his hands on her waist, his thumbs stroking her hipbones.

"Make love to me, Jack," she said, her hands rubbing his chest, seductively.

Jack returned her kiss, deepening it, brushing her hair away from her face. "Why do you stay with me? All I do is hurt you."

"How many time do I have to say it before it sinks in? I love you. I _want_ to be with you."

Jack scooped her up, making his way to the stairs. At the top, he stopped, asking, "Is this what you really want?"

"I've never been more sure of anything."

He carried her into the bedroom and set her on the bed. He undid the buttons of her shirt, sharing reverently at each piece of skin that was exposed. Jack placed an open-mouthed kiss on her breast, above her heart.

Siobhan reached over and undid his tie, flipping open the buttons on his dress shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. She kissed him again, her tongue seeking entrance. He sighed as she caressed the inside of his mouth.

Jack laid her back on the bed after removing her shirt. He kissed a path from the valley between her breasts to her belly button. There he stopped a moment before unsnapping her pants, and pulling them down her legs.

As he made his way back up, Siobhan felt worshipped. She had never felt this way with any other man. Jack truly knew how to make her feel extraordinary. He lay on his side next to her, his hand stroking her stomach.

He opened the front clasp on her bra, thumbing her nipples as they appeared. "Ohh," she sighed. "You're slightly overdressed, don't you think?" she managed to get out. She let her hand slide down his chest to the waistband of his dress slacks.

She opened his fly and slipped her hand inside, caressing him. He groaned appreciatively, his own movements stilled.

"Are you sure, Siobhan?"

Her response was to push his slacks and boxers down and off. She next rid herself of her remaining clothing. "I'm very sure. Now kiss me, please!"

Jack obliged her, while stroking between her legs. His own arousal mounted as Siobhan approached her orgasm. When she came at last, he was ready to burst as well.

"God, that was amazing, Jack," she said. "But you look like you need some relief." Siobhan reached down and began rubbing him lightly, until he was panting heavily.

"Wait," Siobhan looked at Jack, questioningly, "I want to want to be inside you when I come."

She guided him gently to her opening and he thrust inside. Jack closed his eyes as he moved, lost in the feeling of her body. "Open your eyes, Jack. I want you to look at me, see how much I love you." It didn't take long for either of them to climax; they had been waiting too long for this.

They collapsed against each other, sated. Jack rested his head on Siobhan's breast, trying to catch his breath. She ran her fingers through his hair, the curls at the base of his skull damp.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, back at the agency," Jack apologized. "I didn't mean it."

"I know, and I shouldn't have slapped you. I regretted it the moment I did it. I know you've been upset. I just wanted you to let me in."

Can you understand how difficult that is for me? I haven't let anyone get this close since Irina . . . left. And now . . . I love you so much that it scares me sometimes. I don't want to let you down and I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Jack, you can't let fear get in the way of our relationship. People get hurt, people die. But I promise you that I'm not going to leave you willingly. Do you trust n that? Do you believe that I love you with everything that I am?"

"Yes."

"Then we both need to let go of our fears and simply live. Can we try that?"

He nodded his head against her chest, unable to repress a yawn. "I don't deserve you."

Siobhan pushed him off and stared him down. "Damn it, Jack. This is exactly what frustrates me! You _do_ deserve to be happy. You _do_ deserve to have someone love you. I love you and Sydney loves you, too. And there is no way you could let me down! Do you hear me?"

"Yes. I suppose that it's been a while since I've been told that," he sighed.

"I'll tell you as often as you need to be reminded. Promise me, though; you'll talk to me? When you're upset?"

"If the talking leads to more of this," he smiled and indicated the bed.

She returned his smile and curled up into his side. "I think I'll enjoy our conversations even more now," she kissed him. "But we need to get some sleep.

Jack glanced at his clock and nodded. "Good night, my love."


	19. Chapter 19

The past 24 hours had not been pleasant for Sydney. Katya's henchmen had alternated beating her with shock therapy. And she'd heard them discussing drugging her. The thing was, she wasn't sure she could withstand sodium pentathol.

The extraction team was in place around the building. Jack, Siobhan, and Vaughn had been escorted to the executive's office and were waiting for the bigwigs to appear. Three men finally entered and sat down, waving their hands, signaling for them to begin their pitch.

When Vaughn had their attention, Jack set off the emitter. Siobhan found Fortinbras as Jack retrieved the code for the security system. Once Fortinbras' identity had been confirmed, they accessed the floor plans and security cameras.

"There she is," Jack pointed to the screen.

"The room is in the southwest corner of the building. Looks like the basement," Vaughn quickly deduced.

"Alright. Vaughn, you stay here, make sure that they don't alert anybody to our presence. Siobhan and I will get Sydney . . ."

"Jack, I want to go with you!" Vaughn protested.

Jack stared him down. "You will stay here and make sure no one is alerted to our presence. I'll contact you when we have Sydney."

Vaughn didn't look happy, but he didn't say anything else as Jack and Siobhan left. As they made their way towards Sydney's location, there was surprisingly no obstacles.

"Why didn't you want Vaughn with us?" Siobhan asked, quietly.

"I'm afraid his emotions will get the better of him. Katya is a cruel woman and I don't know what she's done to Sydney. We need to be clear-headed about this."

As they approached Sydney's room, two men came out brandishing guns. There was no hesitation on either Jack or Siobhan's part; their tranquilizer guns neutralized the men without alerting the other guards. Unfortunately, Katya came around the corner at the opposite end of the corridor.

"Check on Sydney," Jack said, shoving Siobhan into the room. "I'll take care of Derevko."

"So Jack, you think that you will be successful this time? I don't think you have the ability to 'take me out,' even if your loved ones are in danger," Katya pointed to the room where tow large men were holding Sydney, and now Siobhan. "Mikhail and Sergei will execute those two if anything should happen to me. Drop your weapon."

Jack looked at Sydney and Siobhan. Sydney appeared to be strapped to a table, one man pointing a Glock at her temple. Siobhan was being held tightly against the other man, who held a .57 Magnum, loosely aimed at her head. He met her eyes and read a message of determination. She nodded imperceptibly and he went to put his gun down.

He heard a grunt, signaling Siobhan's attack on her guard. Jack wasted no time in standing back up and elbowing Katya in the face. She recovered quickly, kicking him in the stomach. The next few moments were spent locked in hand-to-hand combat.

In the mean time Siobhan had taken out both guards with her tranq, which she had hidden under her shirt, and was no in possession of the Glock and Mag. Now she was tending to Sydney while keeping half an eye on Jack. At last, he gained the upper hand, throwing Katya against the wall. She slumped to the ground, apparently unconscious. Jack made he way over to Siobhan.

He hadn't taken more than a couple of steps before Siobhan yelled, "Watch out!" as she tossed him a gun. He turned, and without a second though, fired, putting a bullet through Katya Derevko's heart.

Jack resumed his path toward Sydney and Siobhan. His heart nearly broke when he saw what had been done to his beautiful daughter: her right eye was swollen shut, her bottom lip was split, ugly bruises dotted her bare arms, and her right leg was bent at an unnatural angle.

"Sweetheart," he brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "It's Dad."

She turned her head to meet his gaze. "I knew you'd come, Dad. Oh, you're bleeding," she reached up to touch the cut on his cheek.

He took her hand before it dropped limply to her side. "I'm fine, Sydney. We need to get out of here," he said to Siobhan.

Over the comms, Siobhan explained the situation to Vaughn. "Are you sure? Fine. We'll meet you on the roof."

"What's wrong?" Jack asked her.

"It seems that the elevators have been shut down. Marshall's been trying to override the system, but it looks like something really is wrong with them. We'll have to take the stairs." She paused before asking, "How are we going to get her up ten flights?"

He didn't answer but turned back to Sydney. "Sweetheart, we need to get you out of here. I need you to put your arms around my neck. I'll try not to hurt you, but I've got to carry you to the helicopter."

"Ok, Daddy."

She seemed kind of out of it, yet her grip on him was strong. Jack put one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees, then lifted. Sydney whimpered slightly and Jack murmured nonsense words into her ear to calm her.

The trio made their way out of the room and to the stairwell, Siobhan leading them, gun out. Jack never faltered in ten flights. Thankfully, their ascent was as uneventful as their trip down.

Vaughn was already in the helicopter, waiting. "My God, Sydney! What did Katya do to her?"

"Not the time," replied Jack, curtly. "Get us to St. Mary's," he directed the pilot.

Siobhan kept a hand on Jack's shoulder as the two men sat on either side of Sydney, each holding a hand. Sydney managed a small smile for both of them. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Just rest, sweetheart."

She nodded once and closed her eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

Twenty-four hours later, Sydney was ensconced in a private room at St. Mary's. All her wounds were dress and she'd had surgery to fix her broken leg; a couple of steel pins had to be placed, but otherwise she'd recover normally.

Jack sat next to her bed, dozing fitfully. Vaughn had gone home after Siobhan insisted that he needed sleep. She hadn't been quite so successful with Jack. The most she could convince him to do was to nap in the chair, not that it was a good fit for his large frame. She, herself, had gone home to sleep for a couple of hours, shower and change, and stop at Jack's for a change of clothes for him.

Jack jerked awake at a touch on his arm. Expecting Siobhan, he was surprised to see Sydney's eyes open, looking around, confused.

"Dad? What's going on? Why am I . . .?"

"It's alright, honey. You're safe now, the doctors fixed you up," Jack gave her a reassuring smile.

"But what happened?" Sydney asked.

"Don't you remember?"

"The last thing I remember is telling Michael that I'd meet him at the office," she thought for a moment. "I was going to meet Art Sheffield. He had intel on Katya . . ." Sydney trailed off, a flood of memories coming back all at once.

Jack watched as a myriad of emotions crossed his daughter's countenance, ranging from defiance to acceptance to, finally, fear. She seemed to shrink within herself, withdrawing from her surroundings.

"Sydney, listen to me. You are safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you!" He glanced to the doorway to see Siobhan taking in the scene before her. "Help me," he pleaded.

Siobhan took a seat opposite Jack and took Sydney's other hand. "Sydney, you can talk to us. It's safe here. I want you to tell us what is so frightening, ok?"

"Not safe," mumbled Sydney.

"What's not safe, sweetheart?"

"It's a trap! Katya wants me to be rescued. She can get Dad, and Michael, and Siobhan, and she'll kill them," Sydney started to cry. "And it will be my fault cause I got myself captured."

Jack and Siobhan exchanged a look before she answered, "Sydney, everyone is safe, nobody's hurt. Your dad and Michael are fine. So am I."  
"And Katya is dead," Jack broke in. "She can't hurt anyone anymore."

Sydney appeared to be coming to herself as she asked, "Katya is dead? Are you sure?"

"We're very sure," Siobhan confirmed.

"I put everyone in danger, this is all my fault!"

"No, it's not. How were you supposed to know that Katya would get to your meeting before your informant? She wasn't even supposed to be in this country!" Siobhan rationalized.

"Sydney, you managed to stay alive, not give the enemy any intelligence. I'm so proud of you," Jack kissed the hand he was holding.

"Thank you for saving me, Dad. I knew you'd come. I just wish I had been the one to take out Katya. Who did?" Sydney was pretty sure she knew, she simply wanted it verified.

"I did," Jack said, quietly.

Sydney nodded. She wasn't angry, but she felt bad. When she and her father had discussed her mother's dead, he had confessed that he disliked killing. And it didn't matter who. She squeezed his hand sympathetically. They were more alike than she cared to admit.

"Syd, you're awake," Vaughn's voice came from the door. The relief was evident in both his face and voice. He made his way over to the bed and kissed her cheek.

"Hey, Vaughn," she gave him a lopsided smile and yawned.

Jack tried to cover his own yawn with his free hand. Siobhan stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder. She leaned down to whisper, "Jack, let's let them have some time alone. You need to rest."

Sydney caught Jack's second yawn. "Dad, how long have you been here?"

"Since you were brought in yesterday."

"You haven't gone home? Dad! You just recovered from your own injuries!" she yawned again and laughed. "Besides, I need my rest, too."

"Are you sure?"

"Go home, Dad. I'll be alright now."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Sydney surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and holding him in place for a few moments.

"Thank you, Dad. I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart. I'll be back later."

Siobhan and Jack walked arm in arm to her car in the parking garage. He settled into the passenger side, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. He rubbed his eyes as Siobhan touched his arm.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but your place or mine?"

Jack managed a wan smile. "I think I'd like to sleep in my own bed. Especially since I had such a good time the last time we were there."

She smirked and gave his knee a squeeze. "The feeling is mutual."

During the short ride to his place, Jack rested his head against the cool glass of the window and fell into a light sleep. As she pulled into the drive, Siobhan glanced at Jack only to find his eyes closed. Though she was loath to do it, she gently shook him awake.

"I'm sorry, Jack. We're here."

He let them into the house and allowed Siobhan to lead him to his bedroom where he attempted to lay down.

"Not in your clothes, Jack. Stand up and I'll help you. But first, get your shoes off."

When he did, she pulled the covers on the bed back before turning her attention to him. She stripped off his jacket, then went to work on the buttons on his dress shirt.

"Aren't you going to help?"

"No. It's more fun to let you do it."

Siobhan rolled her eyes and pulled the shirt off. Next, she unbuckled his belt, undid the button on his pants, and pulled down the zipper, allowing her hand to linger overlong at his crotch. She brought her around to the back of the slacks and pushed them down, cupping his butt as he stepped out of them.

He sat back down and yanked off his socks as Siobhan began undressing. As much as he was enjoying the view, Jack couldn't help the yawn that escaped.

"Sorry."

"It's alright. Where are your t-shirts?"

He pointed to the top drawer of his dresser; she grabbed one and threw it on. She sat next to him, kissed him lightly, and put her arms around him. "I'm not expecting anything. I just want to be with you. You need to sleep now."

Siobhan maneuvered them so he was spooned behind her. Jack was so tired that his breathing evened out within minutes. Siobhan was awake longer, simply getting pleasure from having his arms wrapped around her.

Two weeks later, Sydney was out of the hospital, still moving slightly awkwardly, but basically healed. She was, at the moment, hosting a dinner party, whose guests included the entire joint task force and their families. Dixon had brought Robin and Steven and Marshall had brought little Mitchell.

Dinner itself had been pretty laid back, easy, Jack thought. Although he had been given some odd looks when he explained the merits of a hybrid car. Oh well. Socializing had never been his forte.

Now Marshall had taken over Sydney's sound system and some of the guests were dancing. Siobhan was talking with Dixon as she caught Jack speaking with Marshall out of the corner of her eye. A couple of minutes later, he joined her in the living room.

"What were you talking to Marshall about?" she asked him over the music.

"Nothing. I wanted to see if he had a song."

"What song?"

"_Anagodadavida_," he deadpanned.

He put his arm around her and they watched the other until Jack heard the song he'd requested of Marshall. He'd heard it on the radio a few times and loved it.

"Dance with me?"

"Of course!" Siobhan was surprised. Pleased, but surprised nonetheless.

It was a slow song and Jack pulled her close, swaying in time to the music. In her ear, Siobhan could hear him singing along:

"_The book of love is long and boring_

_No one could lift the damn thing._

_It's full of charts and facts and figures_

_And instructions for dancing._

_And I, I love it when you read to me._

_And you, you can read me anything._

_The book of love has music in it_

_In fact that's where music comes from._

_Some of it's just transcendental_

_Some of it's just really dumb._

_But I, I love it when you sing to me_

_And you, you can sing me anything._

_The book of love is long and boring_

_And written very long ago._

_It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes_

_And things we're all too young to know._

_But I, I love it when you give me things_

_And you, you ought to give me wedding rings._"

"_This is a really sweet song_," thought Siobhan, only half paying attention to the lyrics.

"_And I, I love it when you give me things_

_And you, you ought to give me wedding rings._

_You ought to give me wedding rings._"

Jack's tenor faded out and he dropped to one knee.

It was only now, as the entire room fell silent, that Siobhan registered what the last two lines of the song were implying. "Oh my God, Jack!"

"I never thought I'd feel this way, that I _could_ feel this way, again. I love you more than I could ever say and I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve you. Will you marry me?" Jack pulled a small box from his pants' pocket. He opened it to reveal a modest one-karat diamond in a white gold setting.

"Oh my God!" she repeated.

Sydney was clutching Vaughn's hand as she waited, along with everyone else, for Siobhan's response.

"Ow, Syd!" Vaughn whispered.

"Sorry."

"Don't leave me in suspense!" Jack pleaded.

"Yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

Jack got to his feet and slipped the ring on her finger. There amidst the cheers of his friends and family, he thoroughly kissed his fiancée and looked to their future together.


End file.
